


Like One Thousand Knives

by Mollypop



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Anemic Harry, Angst, Bottom!Harry, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, I'm still bad at tags, Louis is afraid of heights, M/M, Obviously there will be smut later, Poor Harry Styles, Poor Liam Payne, Poor Niall Horan, Poor Zayn Malik, RMS Titanic, Rich Louis Tomlinson, This might get sad, You aren't reading these anyway, i'll add more later, larry stylinson - Freeform, oh well, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 56,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollypop/pseuds/Mollypop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you really know where're going, Zayn?" Harry shouted above the erupting volume of the crowd around them. Zayn was in front, leading the gang of four eccentric lads who ran through the crowd, half-filled sacks bouncing against their thighs and wrecking their clothes. Each boy stayed behind Zayn, hand in hand so not one would be lost, Liam follwing Zayn, Niall following Liam, and Harry in the back. They cheered and wailed, and the watchers around them cheered along with them, whistling when they saw the paper treasures that Zayn held in his hand. They battered against the wind when Zayn handed one of the two treasures to Liam, his rightfully won ticket to the so rumoured, unsinkable, "Ship of Dreams".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye! I'll Miss You

"Do you really know where're going, Zayn?" Harry shouted above the erupting volume of the crowd around them. Zayn was in front, leading the gang of four eccentric lads who ran through the crowd, half-filled sacks bouncing against their thighs and wrecking their clothes. Each boy stayed behind Zayn, hand in hand so not one would be lost, Liam follwing Zayn, Niall following Liam, and Harry in the back. They cheered and wailed, and the watchers around them cheered along with them, whistling when they saw the paper treasures that Zayn held in his hand. They battered against the wind when Zayn handed one of the two treasures to Liam, his rightfully won ticket to the so rumoured, _unsinkable,_ "Ship of Dreams".

The crowd made way for the frantic four, only Third Class to be seen in line to be checked for diseases. Zayn and Liam went over the plan one last time as they crept up the boardwalk at an agonizingly slow pace. He and Liam would show the guard their tickets and get in with no trouble. When it came Niall and Harry's turn to show off their tickets, the other two would make as best a distraction as they could, Harry and Niall were made to make an absolute run for it- and to not look too suspicious once they were on deck. Niall insisted on the idea not working, that no one was that dumb, rubbing his thumb over the back of Harry's hand to sooth the slightly younger boy as best he could. The two doubtful teenagers only received kind words from Liam that insisted they wouldn't go to America without the other two coming along with them. That was always the plan- for the four of them to get to America and make something of themselves. When Zayn and Liam came running through the streets after a long night of Poker, wailing about their luck at winning tickets, they exclaimed their great plan to get the lot to the new world. 

The purser at the entrance to the ship tapped his foot to the metal, not enjoying the ache in his heels. The four had easily passed the metical examinaton, Harry making it go a little faster by pulling his best American accent and claiming he was only going home. Then, the group was in the next line. This line would decide their fate, dramatic as it was. If the plan didn't go as expected, they would be thrown to the splintered dock like dead fish, and the Titanic would leave without them on board, and there would go their only shot at a better life and a great adventure. Zayn, being the oldest and always acting like the wise elder brother, reassured his younger 'siblings' that nothing would go wrong as long as they trusted him. 

"Ticket," the purser choked, spit flying from between his lips and striking Liam in the face. Niall and Harry remained hand in hand, interlocking to the point where knuckles faded into white. Liam showed his ticket, folded and stained with ale. Zayn followed the action with a haughty grin, almost as if to show the man that, yes, Third Class lads could manage their way onto the ship of dreams with a little effort involved. With no more than just a glance, the purser flicked his head back with a crack of his neck, Liam and Zayn rushing forward with their sacks of clothing at their sides, "Ticket," the purser raised his eyebrow at the nervous looking Niall and Harry, whose hands might as well have been welded together from pure fear. They both reached into their pockets, as if they would really pull out a treasure. Harry thought, prayed, for a moment, that there would be a ticket in there. No scheme, no nothing. Just a ticket. But, his pocket was no more than hot and stuffy air. He met Niall's blue eyes, their heads nearly touching as his look reflected pure fear. They had been stalling for far too long, Niall said with the silence of his eyes. 

Four useless vases at the ship's entrance suddenly shattered against the floor, causing the purser to turn around with a huff. There was no culprit, but the glass wasn't going to clean itself up. At that, Niall and Harry pushed through the open metal, smiling when they passed the guard. The crowd of only Third Class behind them cheered and threw their fists into the air. They had all known of the blonde and curly haired boys in the front, neither one having a ticket and only relying on hope and a little luck to get them by. They ran through the halls, searching left and right for their friends that had pulled off the distraction so well. They were no where to be seen, most likely already made their way up to the deck so no suspicion could be landed on them until after they were docked across the world. 

Niall pulled Harry along, laughing the endearing laugh of his that was enough to make anyone around him fall in love. Harry cackled alongside his friend, both breathing in the amazing sea breeze when they made it to the deck. Not looking straight forward, only left and right to hope to find the open arms of their brothers. Harry found himself getting sucked into the beauty of the ship, the pure white shining like fresh snow in the blazing sun, simple paint looking as though it was a gift from God. The rails were silver, freshly cleaned and inspected several times over before the boarding of the vessel could even begin. First Class men and women were the main gatherers, showing off amazing gowns and suits. Men stared at the racing boys with gaudy smiles and women glaring at them from under their sheiling parasols. Third Class simply laughed when the boys passed, men whistling and ladies hollering something about the boy's looks that they were enamoured of. 

Harry's long limbs betrayed him, clumsy as always, though most people found the trait endearing. Harry crashed to the wooden deck, polished and slick with the residue of wet air, enough to slide the curly haired boy across the floor, dragging a laughing Niall along with him. The two boys simply laid on the floor, breathing heavily between hearty laughs and angered stares. They even continued laughing and being limp on the deck when Zayn and Liam scoffed at them for failing at their job at not drawing too much attention. The other boys still chuckled alongside their friends, lost in their dreams of being on the  _ship_ of dreams. 

"Filthy animals," a lady scoffed, stopping the boys in their laughter on the floor, "I hope the servants know how to wash up properly. This display is utterly..revolting," Harry glanced up to see a gorgeous woman, no older than himself. She had dark brown hair, slightly curled as it graced the tips of her shoulders. She wore yellow, a matching parasol above her head to do a job of blocking her from the sun. Needless to say, she was First Class and loving it. 

"Come now, Eleanor, they're just living in some good natured fun," the boy next to  _Eleanor_ said. He was a handsome boy, tanned skin soaking up the sun and not accepting the help of a parasol or tired servant. He wore a black suit, buttoned perfectly over his white undershirt, looking as though he was attending the most formal of affairs that Harry could only dream of. His hair was a chesnut brown, slicked back to set a weak frame over his heavenly face. Despite his actions and the look on his face, he was First Class as well. It should have been expected, seeing as how a First Class lady would never be caught dead with anything that wasn't deemed to be the absolute best. His eyes were the colour of the ocean, sparkling in the sun and shimmering with delight toward the four lads playing hopelessly on the floor. Harry found his chest spark against nothing as he admired the colour, shocked expression fading into a beaming smile as his top teeth clamped to his bottom lip to try to hide the strange action. Eleanor glared at him, scrunching up her nose as if she had stepped in something horrid, earning her a shocked look from the boy next to him.

"It's simply abhorrent. These pigs don't even know how to behave in proper society, such a pity," Eleanor huffed, bringing out a white fan graced with feathers to cool down her face. 

"Says the lass wearing the colour of piss- that's what 'horrent," Niall mumbled, not even trying to be quiet under the rush of feet or waves. The other three boys let out laughs, patting their Irish mate's back in delight as they placed themselves back to the cool tingle of the wood. Eleanor gasped, eyes widening and anger filling her features as she stomped her foot into the ground. The boy next to her quickly smacked a hand over his mouth, eyes lighting up in vain of him trying to conceil his obvious smile. Harry and him met eyes for a moment, sharing delight and a small apology before Eleanor pulled against the blue eyed boy's arm and the couple began wandering off. The boy looked back at the sprawled out lads on the floor, more than once making short eye contact with Harry. With some hesitation, he pulled his head forward one last time before finally keeping it there. Harry finished off his last bit of chuckles, making the air around them seem much more quiet and empty than it had before. 

Zayn was the first to stand, taking Niall's hand and yanking him up, ending the motion with his arm slung over Niall's shoulders. Liam copied the action on Harry, thanking Niall for putting the previous problem back in her place. He didn't state it as that, Liam was a gentleman despite what the rest of the world thought. All four were true gentleman, ready to treat a lady as a lady should be treated- but never given the chance. For what could a poor boy give to a pretty lady?

"Here we are, boys. The Titanic. Beauty ain't she?" Liam asked, placing his feet on the bottom most of the silver rails, leaning his hips into the top one and glancing over the wonder of the ocean. The other three copied the action, smiling to themselves and one another all at once. It truly was a beautiful sight, Harry thought, glancing out over the last looks of Ireland that they would get until they could afford the long trip back in months or years time. When they would return with plenty of money in hand and adventurous stories to tell.

A horn sounded from the highest points of the ship, echoing through the air and shaking the core of the vessel. The crowd below, those who wished to see their family members off, or those who simply wanted to take part in the magic that was the Titanic, waved and cheered and hollered. Harry could see the metal the connected the dock to the ship being slowly brought up, cutting off anyone else from entering or exiting. All ashore that were going ashore, people cheered and yelled. Others crowded around against the boys, waving and shouting goodbyes that Harry was sure no one could understand from below. He waved and cheered anyway, though no one was there for him. Everyone who was there for him was right on this ship, standing next to him.

"Goodbye!" Niall shouted out, voice cracking from the sudden raise in volume.

"You know someone?" Zayn asked, not shouting but talking over the crowd.

"No, that's not the point- Goodbye, I'll miss you!" Niall shouted with a laugh, eyes glancing over the land itself.

"Goodbye! I'll forget you never!" Liam joined in, throwing his fists into the air and joining in Niall's peculiar array of loud words.

The ship tottered side to side for a moment, the cheers and waves increasing as the boat slowly pulled away from the safety of the wooden dock. Liam wrapped his arms around the boys, cheering into the clouds of the glory that awaited. Harry wrapped his arms around Niall, both boys cheering into one anothers wrecked shirts, Zayn and Liam joining in when the cheers had stopped and there was no one left to say goodbye to. The boat had pulled away from the dock, leaning and waiting on nothing and no one anymore. It was set out to sea, leaving Ireland and their lives behind, and taking the hopeful lads to America, the new world that would lead them to the greatest adventures of their lives. 

"Gorgeous, ain't it?" a female voice asked Harry. He turned to see a girl his age, ragged and ripped dress covering her body under layers of thin jumpers and large brown boots. Third Class. Friendly, as expected. She had long, dark brown hair-nearly black. It was dry and mousy, broken and covering past her shoulders. She was tan, not having the sun blockage that most ladies always had. Bright brown eyes that reflected pure happiness, the sign of a true Third Class born, happiness that no First or Second Class could even dream of copying. Next to her stood a pale girl, skin as white as snow and smile as bright as the sun. She had wavy, blonde locks that found their resting place at the tip of her shoulders, just as mousy and dry as the brunetter standing next to her. Her blue ice look as though they were carved out of ice, but held the warmest of gazes toward Harry, "Kendall Jenner," the brunette one said, motioning over herself, "And this is Perrie Edwards, nice to meet you, Mister Stowaway," she giggled.

"Have I been found out?" Harry asked, The other lads going off about there business and not even noting that he wasn't around, "You planning to tell anyone?"

"Wouldn't dream of it. You're quite daring, it's shocking, really-I welcome it," Perrie laughed, leaning against the railing and crossing her arms with an approving nod coming from Kendall.

"Harry Styles," Harry mused, both girls taking the time to share a hug with the lad. First Class around them looked at them as pigs that didn't know how to act proper, but to the two of them this was nothing more than the most common type of meeting. 

"Well, Harry Styles, I saw you talking to Miss Eleanor," Perrie said, tilting her head in the direction the previous couple had fled.

"Not talking, more like she scolded me on my wretched behavior," Harry rolled his eyes, leaning against the railing beside Perrie.

"Abhorrent, actually," Zayn chuckled, taking notice in the group and waltzing over to the trio, eyes easily scanning up and down the mysterious, gorgeous blonde girl, "Zayn Malik," he stated, shining a smile that was rather coy for the Zayn each lad had come to know. By now, each boy had wandered over to the group, stated their name and sharing a greeting, getting each face burned in their memory before starting up actual conversation. It didn't take long for Kendall and Harry to settle themselves back into the previous chatter, what about the First Class couple of course.

"Your friend there, Niall, he's quite cheeky. Never thought anyone would stand up to Miss Eleanor Calder-Tomlinson," Kendall stated, voice straining with venom as she dragged out the woman's second last name. 

"Tomlinson?"

"Yeah, she's about to be married. Don't you read the papers? Her daddy hooked her up real swell with the Tomlinson family, another kind of rich folk marriage- may be more possession than love, I'm sure."

"Who is this 'lucky' Tomlinson fellow?" Harry asked, suddenly very intrigued in this girl's knowledge.

"Don't know really. Eleanor is famed for work in Ireland, but Tomlinson is from back in Britain. No real reason for leaving, I think, just a liner taking them straight to their regal wedding. Why the curious?" Kendall leaned in toward Harry, laughing when his face lit up in a shade of pink, "Calm down there, fellow, I'm only spitting at you," Harry grumbled while Kendall let out a light laugh. She stopped and shot her brown eyes over to the other three boys, who each had wacky smiles plastered to their faces as Perrie told some memorable story beside them. "So, Styles, what say you and your friends come with me to the Third Class and have a little spot of fun?"

 


	2. Irish Party in Third Class

The ship glowed in the sun, glimmering in the eyes of the crowd and filling their lungs with nothing but magic. Louis watched from the window of the car, door being opened by some poor son-of-a-bitch who made his living that way, holding the door until he and his entire family had their feet planted on the ground. Though he tried to feign unimpressed values of the vessel, he found his mouth opening and his eyes widening along with the other children his age, or all ages. His father and mother paid a crew member, pressing that their car and luggage need not go through the main baggage check, and enough money was given to allow them to skip over the medical examination. Money was a wonderful treat, Louis surely remembered. 

"Not quite as amazing as I would have dreamed," Eleanor scolded beside him, fan waving back and forth in front of her face as they waddled at a slow pace to the loading dock, "But it will do for the time being, I suppose," she giggled, the same giggle that Lady Johannah had fallen in love with, and hoped that her son would fall in love with as well. An arranged marriage, based around money as many were, to keep the Tomlinson and Calder families from losing all their wealth before it had truly begun. Eleanor was a proper lady, well-bred and a wonderous product of what the upper class could do to breed such a beauty. Louis, on the other hand, was a pistol. He dreamed of America as much as any other lad did, and he couldn't say he hated having the wealth that his family did. But he had different desires. He planned to run away once they got onto the dock in America. He wouldn't know where he was going, and he could be dead in an alley full of Third Class within a week's time. But, he had dreams of being much more than some heir to an oil company, one which his father had struck with a single accident. He dreamed of being an artist, of living instead of surviving, and to fall in love with someone before they were planned to marry him.

Cheers and hollers came from the crowd behind him, causing Louis to turn around and stare out into the crowd. Four lads were sprinting through the watchers, hand in hand and burlap sacks digging into their sides. Each one wore shirts a good size larger than them, tucks into brown or black trousers they were stitched and patched over so much you could mistake them for a quilt. They wore braces to keep their clothes patted together, keeping said trousers up enough to see brown boots or dirtied shoes. They were the poorest of poor lads, nothing much to live for and nothing waiting for them anywhere. They were runners to the wind, able to head out to the horizon with just a moment's notice. The crowd around them cheered as the one with the mop of stringy, black hair raised two tickets into the air, holding their acclaimed spot on the vessel. Eleanor rolled her eyes, looking away as if she had seen something horrifying, when it really was just a dreamer's excitement. Louis stared for longer than most would deem well. He could picture it, even if only for a second. Behind the last one, the one with the mop of curls bobbing in time with his steps, he would be running with his own sack digging into his thigh. He would be laughing and hollering with them, cheering because they had found something greater than money- cheering because they felt like a shined penny with those tickets in their hands. Louis took on their riveting and delighted smiles as his own, letting out his own cheer despite the disturbed look his mother had gifted him.

He watched those lads carefully, trying to never lose sight of their amazing nature. The far off cheer of the crowd told him, yes, they had made it on the ship with enough time to spare. He watched from the deck, ocean air filling his with a new energy that he had to keep trapped in the deepest core of him. So, when he heard the intense stomps on the wooden deck, he could only grin. It was only the curly one and the blonde one, looking left and right with smiles on their faces. He grabbed Eleanor by the arm, hooking them into place as he was trained to do, and followed the mysterious boys with a slow pace as if he were simply taking a stroll. He followed them close enough to cackle when they both took a spill over onto the deck. The curly one seemed quirky, clumsy, to which Louis found to be very endearing in actuality. Though, a harsh tug on his arm from Eleanor told him his chuckles for the poor lad weren't welcomed. The black haired one and the lighter haired curls appeared, toppling over to the floor like their friends, each one laughing and filling the air with a type of glee that the rest of the passengers took on without worry. Most of the Third Class wailed along with them, this being an easy and normal sight. The more upper classes stared with a type of loathing Louis thought the Devil himself could never muster on his own.

Eleanor was quick to jab when they were close enough to the lads to get an autoble word in, the insult knocking the charming smiles right off the boy's faces. Of course, they were only ignited again when Blondie mused over an insult he probably thought nothing of as more of a joke. Louis was sure Eleanor would give him a good scolding about how to treat a lady when she was being threatened, but he only found that the boys were more charming when they opened their mouths to form sentences. Or, in some, he found charm in what they didn't say at all. He found the curly one-the one with the sparkling green eyes that could only be described like freshly raised grass in the newest day of Summer-He found his face inviting, his expression a clear window to his mind despite how he dreamed of controlling them. Once again, Louis found himself imagining what he was really like, his thoughts, past, feelings, and how he was able to master such a musical laugh despite the fact he was wearing clothes that rats wouldn't deem fair enough. He dreamed of laughing along with the boys, sitting on the floor and not giving a damn who was giving a glance. 

Eleanor ended up being so enraged, she wouldn't even allow the two to stay on deck to wave the unknown watchers goodbye. She led him straight to their state room, large and grand and full of things Louis was certain were only for show. The walls were wood, so polished nothing would be able to leave even the harshest of marks, designs were played into the unknown former tree, making the sight gorgeous. There was a four chaired table in the center of the room, a spot for Louis, Eleanor, his mother, and his father to all sit around and discuss affairs Louis couldn't give a damn about. The fabric of the chair was a light brown that danced with a pattern of stitches that matched the magic patterns that graced the carpet. There was but one bed in this section of the room, another one being displayed in the connected state room Louis' parents would be spending their time in. A single bed could only mean that, yes, he and Eleanor would be forced to share it despite his previous wishes to avoid that sort of situation. They spent the entire daylight time unpacking, hanging paintings and placing vases around as if they were staying there a lifetime. They would surely just complain when they docked and had to place it all back in the bags and boxes. Louis glanced out the small window given, seeing that the sun was close to the end of the horizon, signaling that they whole day had been wasted on something as trivial as making a second home for himself. 

"I must say, this room is lovely. I adore the colour of the walls," Johannah cooed as she dragged her gloved hand over the red wallpaper that sat through the square, carves patterns in the wooden walls, "Louis, darling, wouldn't this be a gorgeous sort of design for the wedding?" Louis flinched at those words, not quite enjoying the injection of them in his ears. 

"Yes, Mother, it's lovely," he blandly responded, not completely lying because the colour really was devine. The wedding was just simply something he couldn't swallow. To be married at his age wasn't impossible, it was natural. But, to be wed before he could even live, before he was ever given a proper cuddle from his mother, was a work of wonder. How could he give love to someone when no one gave some to him? How could he marry someone when he hadn't felt one grace of loving another human in his lifetime? 1500 invitation sent out already, worlds of people he didn't even know, coming to watch as he sold his soul away to a girl who was nothing more than money to his parents. The room was feeling far too cramped now, the walls closing in and suffocating Louis. It was as if he was screaming in the middle of the room, and not one person raised their heads and asked him what worried him. He was alone in a crowded room, servants and royals alike avoided his pleas. 

Quite silently, he escaped from the crowded room, into the halls that were even more cramped than his state room. He was panting, drawing attention to himself even when he tried to display a bubble of calm that he was raised to display. Failing obviously as the high class around him whispered of the 'Tomlinson Boy who was causing quite the ruckus'. Louis found that half running through the halls was doing a fine job at clearing his head, the lower down in the decks making him forget that he was in a strange world of heirs and diamonds. Suits and feathers were replaced with layers of coats and messy locks of untrimmed hair. He was around Third Class, nearly as low in the ship as one could go. He found more people staring at him, but mainly people only stopped him to ask if he was lost or looking for someone. These people seemed to eager to help or simply talk to someone, though there was always a look of intimidation in their eyes while asking him a question. He felt himself loosen up with each coming stranger, answering 'no' to most questions because he wasn't lost or looking. He was simply trying to fit in in a place where it was obvious he was wrongly put. But he couldn't help the way he laughed to himself as he continued to look into rooms, small and cramming at least four people into every room, beds stacked on beds and shoved tightly against walls. These people were truly the bottom of the lot.

Somewhere much closer than before, he heard the strings and drums of music. A different style than what he was raised to hear, not the classical drawn pull of strings that you followed memorized dance steps to. This music was fast, a good beat too quick to follow any real dance steps to. Louis followed the music, breaking out into a run when it was becoming to much to bear that he had no clue that a rhythm such as this had existed and was so good at infecting those who happened to walk by. He found himself descending stairs, the music at the loudest point as he was greeted with the image of pure enjoyment. A party- a real one. Not one where people paraded around to show off their new gown and gossiped about new money or who was in trouble of losing it all. This was a party fit for a king, Louis thought, with people laughing and shouting and bumping into each other because there was no designed way to dance. The musicians were well involved in what they were doing, chugging beer instead of champagne or wine. Even the ladies were guzzling the dark liquid, laughing and being pulled into a dance by the nearest man around them. Louis felt himself laughing, the air infecting him enough to drag him into the middle of the party. Men welcomed him, shocked as they may have been, holding out beers that he would only refuse to. His mother would throw a fit if he came back from a real Irish party absolutley knackered and drunk out of his senses. 

In the middle of the crowd, he saw a circle formed around familiar faces. The four boys from earlier, paired off in accordance to how they fell to the floor hours before. The blonde one and the curly one jigging together with the strangest of foot motions that were kept in perfect time, all before swirling back into each other's arms and spinning in uncertain circles. They were obviously drunk out of their minds, laughing and shouting and looking as though they were about to throw up their beer whenever they spun a knot too fast. The two didn't seem to care though, all four boys meeting hands and running around in a fast circle, making the crowd holler and wave their glasses in the air so that beer rained everywhere. 

"Go, Harry!" an unknown girl shouted next to Louis, clapping her hands and motioning toward one of the lads in the main four. She leaned to her friend next to her, a blonde girl with the palest face Louis had ever seen. They giggled next to one another, before clanking their glasses and downing like he had never seen a lady do before. 

When he looked back up to the spinning circle, he saw the curly lad stumbling toward him, landing at his feet and not missing laughing for one moment. Louis fell backwards as well, hitting the ground while the lad at his feet simply laughed loudly and the crowd around the both of them cheered and offered the two beers that Louis was sure they didn't need. The boy half on top of Louis looked square in the eyes, head bobbing slightly as if he had just hit his head on the hard floor, lost like an innocent child.

"Why is it I always seem to meet you when you're stumbling over yourself?" Louis nearly had to scream to be louder than the crowd around him. The boy ran a hand through his tangled mop and looked to Louis as if he had noticed him for the first time. It probably was the first time since he was rather busy being a proper entertaining drunken bastard, but he still held a look of familiarity in his eyes when he scanned over Louis' features, "You look absolutely out of it, mate. Do you even remember your own name?" he sassed with a half honest laugh.

"Harry Styles!" the boy cheered, triumphant in remembering something so simple. Seeming to remember his manners, Harry held out a hand to Louis as he pushed his weight off the floor. Louis accepted the hand, gasping in surprise when Harry lifted his body back to his feet. The boy looked a lot weaker than he truly was. He scanned over a shocked Louis, hands still locked together as he waited for something, "I think its you that forgot your name, lad, and your place," he laughed, taking notice that Louis was most certainly not dressed for a gathering where beer rained from the sky.

"Oh, uh, Louis Tomlinson," Louis spattered out, angered in himself that he just assumed everyone would know who he was. It also made him kind of pleased to be around someone who hadn't the slightest clue about him- someone simply talking to him because he could. It wasn't about begging for money, it was about speaking for company in one another, "What? Am I not allowed to be down here?"

"Thought it was 'gainst the rules," Harry joked, pulling his hand away and grabbing a beer from one of the girls standing next to him.

"Do you really find drinking another to be a good idea?" Louis asked, voice starting to go hoarse from talking over screaming.

"I got me on the Titanic today, Lou, I'm the luckiest bastard in the goddamn world! E'ryone here is having a celebration for their poor souls," Harry explained, taking a break to chug a good half of the beer. Louis felt himself going wide eyed at how beer was revered here as water, and how some stranger had given him a nickname within two minutes of actual words. He wasn't really upset with the endearment, blaming it on the alcohol as Harry was nothing more than a silent and nervous mess on the deck earlier. Or, perhaps, this was simply how boys in the lower classes acted. Charming and swell until you give them a private room, beer, and a few girls to let their brains run wild. Wild. That's what it was that made Louis stick around despite the stares and the raining beer. Third Class, and Harry Styles, were absolutely free and running wild, "But, I guess I wouldn't expect a rich fellow like you to know what a party really was!"

Louis scanned around, watching as the three lads and two ladies from the sides of Harry crowded around him, bodies pressing together in a way Louis was raised to be considered as absolutely rude, "Niall, Liam, Zayn, Perrie, Kendall- this is Louis," Harry giggled to his friends, pointing to each one to signify their names to the rich bastard he was poking fun at.

"A bit lost there?" Perrie asked with a tilt of her head.

"'on't ya be in trouble, mate? For bein' down here with us  _scum_?" Liam asked, laughing while Zayn and Niall gave him hard looking slaps to the back.

"Your girl might get cross," Zayn snorted out, Kendall handing him another glass of beer, and Louis giving a harsh glare because he was trying to forget Eleanor at the moment,"You don' belong here!"

Louis huffed and unbuttoned his jacket, feeling some of the heat leave his body when he threw the coat to the ground, the crowd in front of him gasping dramatically to spite him. He met Harry's eyes, and the curly boy responded by holding out his half finished beer to fill the small space between them. With a smirk, Louis grabbed the glass and put it to his lips, chugging though it burned his throat. The crowd in front of him cheered, making the rest of the room burst out with joy as well. Louis set the glass back into Harry's hands, smiling as he felt the green eyes wide and fill with shock around him.

"What? You think a First Class lad can't drink?"


	3. Do you love her?

The party air didn't take long to get too warm, burning at the skin and making sweat the only stentch in the entire hall. People laid scattered over the floor, past out and sleeping soundly where they would for the night. Niall and Liam were draped over a table, Niall about ready to fall off and have a harsh awakening against the splintered floor. Zayn was already on the floor, mumbling something while clinging to an empty mug of air. Perrie and Kendall leaned against a wall, somewhat sober men trying to wake them up so others would get no ill intensions. Above, on the top deck, Harry and Louis ran around deck, singing whatever song came into their head, hooked arm and arm and still swinging around one another as if the party rang on wherever they went. As expected for two drunken lads, the force of a circle was too much to take, and both were sent toppling to the ground in a fit of giggles, white puffs of breath filling the cold air with warm beats.

Louis felt carefree, cold spreading through him as he laid on the chilled floor, staring into the stars in the sky, a curly mop laying right next to him. The laughter was replaced with the gasping for air, the pair seeming to forget they needed it to survive. The night had begun with them insulting one another, trying to one up everything they could. Then, well, everyone around was convinced that they were soul mates in one way or another- meant to be best mates since their birth. God had planned it, they said, the bringing of those two together. They got on better than any other person around, laughing and refusing to leave each other's side. Louis said it was because he was a gentleman, and Harry had a similar face to a girl, all white and fair- rosy cheeks and lips like one too. And the lad was a proper introduction to a world Louis could only dream of. And Harry thought, though he would never say it out loud, it was due to the age difference, and that he was only expected to look up to the First Class lad two year his senior- as embarrassing and childlike as it was to say it. In the open, Harry said it was because Louis was an upper class with the spirit of a poor vermon.

The boys stayed on the floor, eyes both locked on the stars and how clear they were in the sky. How even the white puffs of their breath still allowed a clarity to them never before seen. It was wonderous, lovely. It was a better scene than anything else, better than any diamond or any new penny picked off the street. It was something so devine and you didn't need to pay for it. All you had to do was take a breath and glance up. And there it was. It seemed that the best things Louis was given came without a penny being spent. He watched people smile when they got on the boat, nothing to their name and yet just glad they were going where they were going. The look of joy couldn't be bought, no money in the world would satisfy them as much as the sea breeze and shining sun. Dreaming. That cost no money, just a little imagination and free time. Louis turned to Harry, scanning over the profile of his face as his green eyes stayed obliviously locked into the sky. He was sure Harry had a dream, a dream halfway across the world and waiting in the wonder that was America. He was sure it was wild, open-minded and nothing but passion and a little luck to take him there. Harry had enough passion to take him anywhere; he wasn't afraid of anything and he had nothing holding him back. He turned his head back to the sky and allowed the drunken stupor he was fading in and out of to vanish permanently.

"Why are you going to America, Harry?" Louis asked once the haze in his head was somewhere lost in the stars. 

"Zayn says the four of us are going to make a fortune there...Buy all the land our arms can carry, and work until we can't see right anymore. Then, once it all settles into place, we head back for home on the first ship that has the room. And we show our families everything," Harry mused, and Louis could hear the absolute joy in his voice, the thrill of the story not yet written, "Can't you see it, Louis? Me? Me out of these rags and climbing up and up and up until I look like the lot of people you see. I could have a suit, too, yeah. A black one- they look the best, don't they? And-and-and, oh, I could have a car. Yeah, I could. I wouldn't even buy a driver for it, I would learn all on me own. I can see it. The four of us. It'll be hard, but I can picture us in that car- driving all the way down a rode in the middle of our own land drive in America...smiling..." Harry babbled on and on, Louis staring at his hands that flailed in the air to match his words.

"I wish I were you, Harry," Louis stated without thinking.

"Me? You don't have to lie, ya know,"

"I mean- you have the world to look forward to. You have a dream, and you- you just go for it. Nothing holds you back. You say you'll get to America and make a fortune and you'll get there. You have freedom. Freedom, yeah. What's that like?" Louis dazed, staring at one star in particular and allowing the bright glow to be burnt into his eyes, so he would never forget it. He could sit on this deck for the rest of eternity, stars beaming and burning and trapping Louis deep into them. And, maybe, even a Harry right next to him to make him smile and laugh and not lose his mind.

"Come with me to America and find out," Harry mused. Louis looked at him, expecting to see the playful glint in his eyes that he always saw each time Harry cracked a new laugh out of someone. But, he found Harry to be looking at him with a more serious expression, sincere, "Think about it. You'd learn how to work like a real man, getting dirty and sweating the life out of ye. And, damn, a family of lads to celebrate with you each paycheck you get- telling you how to be smart with your spending. We'd be careful with our money so we would never lose it,"

"We could work on a farm?" Louis asked with a weak smile.

"Yeah, of course. Raise our own animals and sell whatever they came up with,"

"Big, wide open spaces. Fresh air,"

"Laughing and having a good fashioned party every weekend that came 'round," Harry laughed, rolling on his side and pulling a silly face.

"And we could mix the classes. First and Third and Second all walking around and chewing over the weather," Louis laughed at the dream of an idea. He had always thoughts about it, really, what it would be like to mix every class- because who gave a damn how many hats you had? Who really cared if you arrived by car or foot? If all the money in the world were to vanish, and everyone was in the same place, no one would be able to recognize a class for miles, just a plain mix of society. 

"People 'round every corner knowing our names and faces- always smiling when they thought of us,"

"'cause we'd be nothing but generous to those lesser than us,"

"Because we'd know what it was like to be at the lowest of low," Harry chuckled. Louis felt a lump form in his throat. He was well-off. Harry, Niall, Liam, Zayn, Perrie, Kendall- the whole lot of them were the lowest. They knew hard work and had left everything behind to get here. They came with nothing more than one bag and a dream and they would live and breathe off of that until their hearts finally gave out. They would look at the stars and see a map- a little jumbled sometimes, but always leading as best the right direction as it could. And they would follow it step by step, leaps of faith around every corner- until they were there. Louis, he came on the boat with everything, more than everything. He had never worked a day in his life, and he was fairly certain he was never cut out to do work such as that. Harry could joke all he wanted about the  _five_ of them living off the land...but all it would ever be was a joke. Louis would still land in America, too frightened of denying his mother to say how he felt about Eleanor. He would be there. Where? He wasn't sure.

"Do you love her?" Harry asked suddenly. Louis sharply turned to Harry, his green eyes still sincere and serious. Louis sat up, turning so he would not have to face those brown curls any longer.

"That's a rude question to ask," Louis scoffed, curling his knees close to him as he didn't trust himself to stand. 

"How is it rude? Do you love her?" Harry sat up, smile on his face and a strange sense of understanding in his eyes.

"This isn't an appropriate conversation," Louis stood up at this point, brushing himself off in preparation to walk away. How did Harry even know that there was a 'her' to love anyway? Louis was certain Harry hadn't even known his name when they first past a glance to each other, "How do you even know about Eleanor?"

"You had your hands on her today. Unless you're a spot of whore, I don't think you'd pull that on just anway. Besides, the poor gossip just as much as the rich- Kendall and Perrie told me," Harry stood beside Louis, rubbing his hands together and regreting leaving his coat somewhere back in the lowest decks, "You don't, do you?"

"You're being rude, Harry. I-...I'm leaving, thank you for the lovely evening, nice meeting you, have a good trip to America," Louis paced through his thoughts, turning to face Harry and taking his hand, shaking it up and down to secure his last visit. But, even when he was sure he was going to pull away, his hand still moved up and down at the same pace, his eyes seeping into Harry's. He looked confused, innocent, like a child, "I...This is my part of the ship, you belong down in the bottom with the rest of the drunken maniacs, you leave," his voice cracking at the end and ruining any command he was trying to have.

"Oh, NOW who is being rude?" Harry giggled, childish and mischevious against the cold air. Louis still clung to Harry's hand, warm in the cold air, though he no longer shook it. It was simply a connecting point between them now. Harry's smile still infectious and making the anger and shock in Louis vanish no matter how he clung onto it. He broke out into a laugh, thinking over the night. Here was a stranger, met only in formality a few hours ago- during a drunken fall. Now, here was that same stranger standing in front of him, sharing dreams and goals and asking questions Louis' own family didn't ask him. Here was a stranger who Louis was quite liking the idea of calling a friend, rather than the former title. 

"I don't," Louis muttered, barely loud enough, though Harry's expression told him he had heard, "My mother is quite worried that our money will dry if I don't marry her. And it's quite common to arrange these sorts of things. Eleanor and I have known each other for quite some time, and I've truly, truly tried to fall in love with her for the sake of my family, but I can't. But, I can't stop the marriage either because, if the money does dry up, my family wouldn't know what to do with themselves. Who am I to take it all away from them?" 

"What about yourself? Don't you ever worry about that?" Harry asked. Louis' eyes shot up to meet Harry, looking through his own mess that he called hair to see Harry was looking at him with a child-like curiousity. Louis decided that was the best way to describe Harry: child-like. Despite the world he had learned to know, he still could look as though he was a child. Despite the fact he knew nothing but work and people walking over him, he could still stand and be concerned for the boy who knew nothing but privilege in front of him. He could still put faith in the kind of person who would walk over him, had Louis been a different man. He was naive and would get punished for it someday. But, for now, Louis found charm and grace in what others would call idiocy, "You matter too, Louis, don't forget that,"

Louis laughed, light and out of place and possibly just to fill the silence that fell over them, "I wish I could go with you, Harry, off the boat and to wherever you plan to run off to," he somewhat felt like crying, but a proper man never cried. Not in front of anyone at least. So, he took a deep breath and smiled at Harry, who in turn smiled back as if Louis' smile was as infectious as his own. Harry opened his mouth, prepared to say something in return.

"Louis?" a woman behind said. Eleanor. She was dressed in night clothing, hair loose and blowing in the wind, angered expression over her features, "What in God's name do you think you're doing out here?" she snapped, causing Louis to fully face her and let go of Harry's hands. She stomped over to Louis, disgust only growing as she caught sight of Harry, scanning his sweaty state over before shaking her head, "Disgusting. What did he do to you, love? Hurt you any? Rob you- God, your coat is missing...we need to call the gua- Guards, guards!" Louis pulled Eleanor to him, taking her hands in his own and silencing her calls.

"No, no, no, Ellie, darling, he didn't steal from me. I-..I was walking to take a tour around the boat when a drunken Third Class spilled beer on me. The bastard didn't speak English so, Mr.Styles here helped with the getting it washed and was keeping me company- a little man to man play is all," Louis soothed, feigning a smile and turning to Harry when his name was brought up.

"Help from a rat. So sorry, love," Eleanor sighed, running her thumb over her fiance's cheek, "Off to bed now, yeah? Quite cold out here, can't imagine the temperature of the water," she smiled, pulling Louis along as he turned back to Harry to wave him a goodnight. Harry didn't make a move to wave back, simply kept his freezing hands in his trouser pockets and looked at his feet, the childish smile wiped off his features, leaving him with the most horrid expression of sorrow- heart breaking sight.

"B-...Bring my coat back here, Mr. Styles, right here at noon tomorrow," Louis commanded over his shoulder, formal as he could be, winking when Harry looked up. Head still cast down in a foolish attempt to hide the giddy smile that spread over his cheeks once again.

"With pleasure, Mr. Tomlinson," 

 

 


	4. King of the World

Louis approached the same dock as the night before, staring at his feet so he wouldn't deal with the embarrassment if Harry wasn't yet there. He did glance up, just to make sure he wasn't running into anyone, and found no one around. People seemed to stay scattered behind him, avoiding the place that Louis had deemed his favourite on the whole ship. Harry was no where in sight, missing though the sun was right above his head in the sky, burning through his hair and making him antsy to get away from the heat. He continued walking, glancing in all directions as if he were merely marvelling in the wonder of it all. Truthfully told, he was. He saw the ropes and metal, rivets and bolts all welded together to make a steel ton monster. He checked over the side, staring at the deep blue water below, just to check that it really was floating on the surface. With how heavy a beast it was, it should never be able to float. And yet, there the black metal was, dancing over the surface and shoving waves against the side and into the depths of the sea. His feet carried him to the bow, the tip and leading peak of the vessel, dragging along a giant and yet holding the most breath taking view. He had never spared a moment to simply stare out into the stretch of sea and sky. On this deck, he found himself staring at a lot of things, beautiful each one he could picture. 

"Beautiful ain't she?" a voice asked. Louis didn't need to turn his head to recognize the raspy tone to be Harry. He didn't flinch or move a muscle really, just blinked against the reflection of the sun in the water and listened as the waves slapped back down into their origin. Louis nodded, eyes not glancing to look at the curls he could see in the side of his vision, eyes sticking to decipher where the ocean began and the sky ended. Harry found Louis to be just as inviting to look at, staring for seconds too long before looking away to the mix of blue sky and water, then pulling back to the blue eyes that were dazed over with lust for miles ahead. Harry smirked to himself, reaching up to grab the black rope that swayed in the wind in front of him, not able to escape from the metal latch on the white deck. He pulled himself up, feet on the highest rail and wind blowing hard enough to threaten his balance. He turned, relying on his right hand to hold his body up, and held the other hand out to Louis, who only looked at him with fake concern.

"Harry, get down from there, someone will come or you could get hur-" Louis started, smile spreading across his face nonetheless. Harry only responded with clenching and opening his hand so his palm was wider and closer to Louis' face.

"Trust me?" Harry asked, more like a demand than a question. Louis glanced between Harry's face and the hand in front of him, taking a moment to look at the people around them that were lost in their own little worlds. He glanced to Harry, smile still latched onto his features and hair blowing into a tangled mess in the wind. Louis let out a laugh, taking Harry's hand in his own and placing the other one on the same black wire that sturdily held Harry's weight. He pulled himself up, shakily and fearing of falling forward into the water below. For a moment before her climbed up, he thought his fear of heights had vanished into nothing- only to be wrong. He squeezed Harry's hand tightly even when he had some balance on the rounded railing. Louis felt the wind against his face, once again with Harry, his hair flying into an unkempt mess. He tasted the salt in the air and breathed in the most refreshing gas he had ever known. From where he was, he could see much more, the ocean below, the ocean that stretched out, the beams of sun that bounced off each cloud and landed into the water to cool themselves down. He turned to Harry, eyes locking and hands readjusting into each other. Their previosly formed grab of wrists melted, smoothly and softly transitioning so that their fingers were locked in the spaces between each others, fitting their like two puzzle pieces. Harry cast his eyes down to their interlocked hands before looking back at Louis, who was already caught up in the light feeling as if he were gliding through air, "You can let go of me now," Harry chuckled, biting down on his bottom lip to conceal the grin about to break out.

Louis glanced down to their hands, pulling away hesitantly and placing his hand to sit on top of his other one on the black rope, "So I can," he choked out nervously, feeling embarrassed of the way Harry only laughed at his realization, "I'm not one for heights is all, Harry, it's not funny," Harry stopped laughing, tilting his head to Louis as if to ask him if he was serious or not, "I'm not lying. Heights aren't the most...pleasant things to deal with. And being over freezing water doesn't sound like the best way to go,"

"How cold is it down there?" Harry asked, grip on the rope tightening as he leaned over the side to get a good look at the liquid. Louis flinched at how Harry only stayed on the boat with one hand and a weak touch of his toes to wet metal. He only responded with using one hand to grab the back of Harry's braces and yank him back to safety, the rope tottering a bit and doing a grand job at twisting knots into Louis' stomach.

"You make me do crazy things," Louis half screamed, glancing to the water below and thinking how one slip of the foot would be his end.

"Calm down, already," Harry sighed, amusement still there in his voice. Louis didn't seem to have it, even the five feet of rail was enough to frighten him about jumping to the deck below. Harry used his free hand to grab Louis' face as gently as possible, and turning it to look back out to the water, "If it scares you, just stare out there and breathe. Breathe it all in like it's the last gulp of air you'll ever take," Louis stayed focussed on that, breathing in at the painting of reality in front of him, and nearly forgetting he was standing on his death wish, "You own all of it, yeah? You own everything you can see and beyond. You're the king of the world, Lou," Harry joked, slapping his mate's back lightly, enough to make him jump and cling desperatly to the rope. With a dramatic sigh, Harry jumped down from the railing, stumbling backward only a few steps against the wood before skipping forward and wrapping his arms around Louis' waist. Louis flinched only slightly, calming his curiosity when Harry placed him back on the deck like it was nothing. Louis took a deep breath, looking up to Harry and finding him looking back, arms still around him and green eyes gazing at him. For a moment, they stayed like that, staring at each other, Harry easily engulfing Louis in an all too close for comfort embrace. With hesitance from both sides this time, the boys pulled away to properly face one another. 

"Well, Mr.Styles, it seems you have saved my life," Louis joked, the warmth of where Harry's arms were buzzing through his body and making him miss the touch, "I must find some way to repay you for everything. Ah, I know, I hear there is a bit of party at the Grand Ballroom tonight, and one rich lad doesn't seem to have anyone to escort," 

"You had this planned the entire time," Harry laughed.

"Excluding the panic attack, yes, I was always going to ask you," Louis explained, feeling nervous at the way Harry's expression changed, "It'll be more fun with you around, Harry. And I know how much you adore parties," he fidgetted, suddenly not comfortable with the way Harry wasn't giving him an answer, only expression changes and tilts of the head.

"Louis, you know I don't belong-"

"With the elite? A little cleaning up and you'll look like the lot of them. My people aren't as welcoming as your's, but they'd be delighted to meet you, I'm sure,"

"You'll end up regretting taking me along," Harry shoved his hands into his pockets, staring down at his shoes once again. An old habit of what he did with more negative emotions, sadness, nerves, embarrassment, jealousy.

"I wouldn't dream of inviting anyone else," 

Harry glanced up, eyes wide and confused, with only a spark of glee. Louis only smiled, tilting his head and shrugging his shoulders to silently ask Harry the question again. With a few more moments of thought, pacing around the deck and the smirk on Louis' face only growing the more he stalled, Harry finally nodded a quick 'yes' and Louis was on his way, telling him what time to get there are how to dress. Harry stood there, arms raised and wondering why in the world Louis brought him all the way out here just to ask him to keep him entertained while elderly women gossiped about him. But, with a sigh, Harry darted down to his cabin, feet slapping against the wood and sending small shocks through the ground. 

He burst through the door, finding the gang all looking over at him with confused eyes. Harry explained, speaking mainly to Perrie and Kendall, and only turning to the confused lads once in awhile to go over the past twenty minutes with them. When his mouth had finished moving, the boys were left with giddy smiles and talks of how Harry should slip some roasted something into his pocket and learn the art of sharing. Perrie and Kendall's jaws dropped, smiles erupting on their faces as they looked to one another for a bit of comformation.

"Louis asked to escort you somewhere? When's the wedding planned?" Perrie joked, puckering her lips mockingly. Harry only rolled his eyes and prepared to exit the cabin with more frustration and confusion than he came in with, only to be pulled back by Perrie and Kendall, his bottom hitting half on the uncomfortable mattress and half in Niall's lap, to which the blonde wrapped his arms around the boy to keep him there, "I know a gal-rich lady- she can lend you a tux from her fiance," Perrie explained, patting her fingers through Harry's hair, "Miss Jesy is her name, I'll introduce you so you may give her proper thanks later," with that, Perrie was off, nearly sprinting out of the cabin and through the halls and until Harry couldn't see where she had gone anymore.

"You have to tell us what their parties are like," Liam commanded, getting a nod from around the room.

"And give us good compliments on how we throw better ones," Niall added with a loud laugh that made Harry's ears ring. 

"There's no doubt about that, lads. He didn't invite Harry for the sake of him seeing his lifestyle- no, no- it's much more. I should have known when I first laid eyes on him," Kendall cooed, lost in her own world. The boys each gave her a questioning noise or a tilt of the head, "Do none of you use your head? First Class don't just invite Third Class because they had a night of beer and laughs together," the boys still stared with no recognition of understanding, "Oh, God, isn't it obvious Louis is absolutely smitten with him?" she asked with a loud crack in her voice. Each boy's eyes widened, shaking their heads and shouting out how Kendall couldn't be more far off from the truth.

"That Louis chap has a fiance, right? He loves her. How could he ever fancy Harry?" Zayn asked with a laugh and a shake of his head.

"He doesn't love her," Harry spat, sending the words out with more fire than he meant. Everyone cast him a look, confused from the boys and excited from Kendall, who only nodded to herself. With a blush dancing lightly on his cheeks, he curled in on himself slightly. Niall followed with a high pitched squeal of affection and a nuzzle into the top of Harry's head. 

"We sure it's really  _Louis_ that's fond of  _Harry_?" Liam asked with a laugh coming from his voice. 

Soon after, Perrie ran back into the room, ushering each boy but Harry out of the room and giving them space to work. The suit was black, Harry smiling because, yeah, they really did look the best. It was a tad too big, nothing too noticable, just extra room. Kendall and Perrie worked to flip the cuffs and place every fiber into place. They even slicked his hair back with a little slimy substance that Harry didn't even want to know what it was. They worked for far too long, not enjoying the way everything looked- styling and restyling Harry's hair and even threatening to cut it a bit to tame it. With the product finalized, Kendall had chosen a white undershirt, matching white bowtie because she wasn't really sure if the upper classes approved of the splashes of colour that the lower did. Perrie had simply slicked Harry's hair back, right over his head so you could see the entirity of his face, not that bad to look at. Then, each girl bent down and worked to shine the shoes that were the only part of the outfit that fit him quite right. Harry wondered how these two had become so skilled in playing dress up, especially with First Class clothing- but the idea of asking poor ladies how they got their money wasn't the kindest or safest thing to do.

When it was all done, the girls done acting and begging for Harry to escort them instead, they ushered him out the door. The watchers, already friendly with Harry and having a good knowledge of who he was and where he stood, simple stared or whistled. The trio somewhat ran to the Grand Ballroom, laughing and earning plenty of strange glances from the confused First Class who couldn't fathom the two scruffy girls running with a dapper looking member of themselves. When they had come as far as they were allowed, Perrie and Kendall wished him luck, reminding him to keep acting like himself no matter who gave a damn. Harry gave them both a hug, the first sign that he wasn't really meant to be there, and headed off, deep breaths that he tried to control the more the rich looked him over for approval.

Harry entered the Grand Ballroom, world changing from crowded beds to...wow. Unlike the white of the exterior, he found the soft glow of gold painting the walls, dusting over everything possible. Endless rows of tables laid scattered around the floor below, a staircase holding the elite as they walked down into the gala, men and women locked arm and arm. Chandeliers graced the ceiling, lights freshly entered with no fear of flickering out. The room was in a marvelous circle, revolving around a large window at the top of the room. It was clear glass, styled with winding patterns of thick, black wire to make bending lines and lovely shapes in the glass. The fading sun of the afternoon drifted into the room, igniting it into a warm orange and yellow, bouncing off the gold and making everything marvelous to look at and take in. He walked through the short hallway that he did have, wood polished and sanded to be slick and gorgeous. Patterns were etched into the wood, and Harry wished it wasn't frowned upon to drag dirtied finger tips across them, let them feel what everything felt like. The railing of the staircase remained on the other side of him, wood shining and forming down into the most amazing looking staircase he had ever seen. It was thinner at the top, and spread out near the bottom to spread into the rest of the room. One side was used to go up, the other to go down, an angel statue in the middle creating the separation with a long string of wooden blockade. Harry followed down the steps, staring at the light in the angel's hand, glowing brighter than any other source in the room, brighter than the light of the sun from above.

"You clean up nice," a voice called. Harry turned to see Louis, standing and waiting at the bottom of the steps, hands behind his back and smile upon his features. He had taken notice in how Harry stared, marveling in everything he could see because this was a new world. As new as the Irish party Louis had experienced the night before, it was new and amazing. Louis felt enjoyment in watching Harry's amazed face, glancing around the room and at the elite that passed by. And, he meant what he said, Harry did clean up well. Hair slicked back and suit seeming to appear from no where, too formal for someone such as him to be able to afford. He looked like he belonged here, standing slightly above Louis on the steps, both simply staring at each other with smiles on their faces. Louis grabbed Harry's hand, making his green eyes turn to face him with some focus for the first time since he walked in. Louis placed his lips to the back of Harry's hand, looking up so he wouldn't miss the flood of embarrassment flush his features. He kept his lips there for some time, not wanting to pull away because...well, if he was being honest, he enjoyed it. Harry's skin was soft and inviting and he didn't pull away and slap him like any other boy would. He sat there, staring at Louis until they finally separated and let out a shared laugh. Louis shrugged when he realized Harry's suspicions hadn't been left behind, "A true gentleman knows how to treat someone properly. Consider that little display as lesson number one," Louis cast his eyes down to Harry's hand, and nodded.

"Shall we be on our way then, Master Styles?" Louis asked, wishing he could continue teasing Harry and snake their arms together or something, but the upper class frowned upon such contact with a woman, let alone another man. So, Louis simply bowed and led Harry along, pointing out people he could recognize, and any scandal he could think up. His mother was one of the biggest gossips on the ship, and Louis had listened in on a thing or two about the people around. The men who kept both wives and mistresses around, women who feign health so they wouldn't be dropped, Louis knew it all and Harry got lost in the knowledge because rich life always seemed so lovely until you realized everyone knew about every little move you made.

"Be weary of my mother, she thinks you're new money. My father as well, he'll talk business with you. If anyone asks, you're a relative to a wealthy steel tycoon in America and you're not aware of how to run the business yet- as the cause for your sudden wealth was through a tragic death that came as a shock to you. Eleanor knows you're coming, and is sworn to secrecy as long as you keep yourself in line. You'll sit next to me, if that's alright, I find sitting next to someone you know makes situations less stressful. On the other side of you will be Stanley Lucas, good chap, he won't talk to you any- quiet," Louis went over, watching as Harry's expression changed to show fear the closer they go to what he could assume was Louis' family, "Hey, hey," Louis cooed, getting Harry to look at him and watch him calm slightly, "If you get nervous or can't answer anything just look at me, alright? Keep looking at me," Harry gave an affirmative nod, following Louis when he continued their walk toward the table. And, with all eyes set on them, even when Louis pulled out a chair for Harry as if he were a lady, Harry let out a breath and sat down. 

 


	5. Nothing to Offer You

"So, Mr. Styles, the steel business in America is going fine, I presume?" Mark asked, taking a sip of his wine and scowling a bit. Harry could only guess it was because white wine tasted like horse shit, but a proper man wouldn't dare say that out loud. The entire night had been this way, Johannah leaning over to speak to anyone at the table, always gesturing in Harry's direction as if he couldn't notice. Mark kept up the chat about business, as Louis warned. Harry liked the guy, he looked like the type who went home and scattered the act and was more like Harry's type than anyone knew. But, really, with nothing but business that Harry didn't know a thing of to talk about, who was he to judge inner character?

"Oh, stop pestering the boy, Darling," Johannah called, rolling her eyes against a bright smile. Louis looked a lot like his mother, same eyes and same smile, "You might drive him out of the business before its even begun," she laughed, nasally and annoying, but enough to spur most of the table into a feigned laugh as well.

"We can ignore Mr. Styles' business strike for a moment to talk about how he managed to befriend Louis," Eleanor added, folding her hands together over the table and frowning in Harry's direction, "Louis hardly ever talks to anyone when he doesn't have to, let alone those in your  _condition_ ," She raised her eyesbrows, signalling that she knew what she was talking about, as if Harry forgot that, yes, he was poor and she knew, "You should invite him to the wedding, love," she added with a sharp turn of her head toward Louis, who nearly choked on his wine at her words. He smiled, dabbing his chin with a napkin, and only nodding to answer his bride-to-be.

Johannah wagged Eleanor on after that, talking about the wedding and things only women would understand. Mark turned to Stanley, or Stan as known by everyone around him, and went off deep into business talk that made no difference to anything. Harry turned to Louis with a childish pout, eyes unfocussed to signify he was quite bored by everything around him, "Lou, can I leave?" he asked, dragging out the term of endearment in a high pitched plea that, somewhere in the back of his mind, Louis found adorable. It was the type of face you wouldn't deny, give your heart and soul to, and yet he couldn't give him the simple pleasure of leaving the table. It wasn't etiquette to leave before dessert, even if you wanted none of it. Louis was quite bored himself, just trained of how to hide it to act as though he was having a wonder of an evening. 

"Sorry, can't let you," Louis sighed, shaking his head and watching as Harry's mouth fell open in a silent groan. He shot Louis pleading eyes, begging like dog who hadn't eaten in weeks, "Stop all that nonsense. If it were up to me, neither you nor I would be here right now. I brought you along as a guest, please at least pretend you enjoyed coming," Louis begged, actually upset at the look he was receiving. Harry responded by simply pulling his bottom lip back into a straight line, ending his pout. His green eyes still persisted in glaring at Louis with hurt and false anger, "Harry, I really do wish you would stop pulling that face. After this, we'll go wherever you want, love, I promise. Until then, wait it out. For me?" Louis brought his hand up to touch Harry's cheek, meaning to pat it in a friendly manner as he had before, but finding he rather liked the position. Harry's face was as soft as his hand, a little warmer though. That heat grew when Louis let the nickname slide past, causing Harry to look visibly flustered, but he seemed to refuse the idea of pulling away from the touch. Louis noticed how close they were at this time, his vision so full of Harry that he hadn't a clue where to look. His cheek? His eyes? His hair? His lips? He decided scanning it all would be good, grand actually, because Harry was doing just about the same thing. But, as they so often did, they met each other's eyes in a simple stare. His eyes were the best place to look, all bright and shining heightenly bright in the orange glow of the room. If Louis was going to be an artist, he was sure he could make it just by painting the color in Harry's eyes all around a black canvas. It would surely make millions. But, his lips were just as inviting to look at. They were pink, a lovely shade of it really, a beautiful one. In that moment, Louis somewhat imagined what they felt like. Were they as soft as the rest of him? He wanted to find out, though he knew Harry kissing his hand wouldn't be a just way to properly discover.

"Louis?" Eleanor nearly snapped, both boys looking away from each other and over to the obviously annoyed girl across from them. Louis slowly slid his hand down Harry's cheek, lingering the last of his touch for as long as possible. He stared at his fiance, not quite sure his voice would come out controlled if he attempted forming words. So, he simply raised his eyebrows as if to ask 'Yes, Dear?' though inside those words would have been much colder,"Do you and Mr.Styles need to be excused for a minute?" she hissed through her false smile, grip on his crystal strong enough to kill a man.

"That we do," Louis finally choked out, pushing out from his seat and rubbing up and down his arms, "Come along then, Harry," he smirked, already walking past the curls. Harry fumbled out of his chair, exhaling before taking off to follow Louis. The boys chased each other at a slow pace until they reached the top of the staircase, no one in the area despite the breathtaking scene that it was. The angel sat holding the bright light, dancing merrily around nothing and no one. Louis stopped at the very stop, the dining area beginning to be hidden from his view, in turn a good hiding spot for him as well. Harry was only steps behind him, enough time for his mind to race left and right, up and down. He paced in a tight circle, biting into the top of his clenched fist and thinking as strongly as he could. 

"What do you think you're doing out there, Harry?" Louis asked in a loud whisper when Harry had made it to him, shocked about the sudden change in mood, "I have a fiance, you can't just pull something like that!" Harry blinked several times, taking in the idea while shaking his head.

"Excuse me, 'm sorry, what are you going off about exactly?" Harry asked, throwing his hand into the open air to silence Louis before he could accuse any more.

"In there you and I...You know what I mean," Louis finally relaxed, shoulders dropping and head hanging. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, where they had desired to go for the majority of the night, "I'm getting married to Eleanor, Harry. Nothing can change that," Louis weakly smiled, trying to cover how his heart shattered at the sight of Harry stepping as far away from him as he could, "I'm happily engaged,"

"Happily? Happily my ass. Louis, can't you see? They're going to suffocate you if you stay-"

"I'm engaged to Eleanor, Harry-"

"I don't have a clue what happened back there, okay? I don't know. All I know is I've never- not once in my life- had that happen to me. Looks like that, feelings like those, don't just _happen_ because they can. Okay? You don't just happen to run into someone twice on a huge ship, just by accident you bump into them. You don't just get on with some random lad for no good reason.You don't-" 

"There's a lot of things people don't do, Harry!" Louis shouted, the unknowing room below going silent for a moment before continuing on with the normal banter, "We've done a lot of things that don't just happen without a little help from greater force. Don't act like I don't know that. We get on better than I've ever before and I'm just as confused as you-" 

"Then why are we having this conversation, huh?"

"Because I'm getting married-" Louis started, stepping closer to Harry and finally allowing himself to break.

"That's horse shit! I get it, Louis, I get it. I know how the world works. I'm not a rich young lady- Hell I have ten bucks in my pocket and the idea of being this 'close' to another man must repulse you. I have nothing to offer you," Harry slowly lowered his volume, no longer having the strength to argue, "You can tell me all of that. But, you can't lie to me and say you've looked at someone the way you just looked at me," 

Louis opened his mouth, only to close it again. He had nothing to say, nothing that could match what was happening. He turned away from Harry, not enjoying the sight of his eyes watering with something that wasn't salt in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, yanking some grease out of his locks, before turning back to see Harry had properly composed himself, a blank stare holding his eyes, "I can't do this, Harry. I'm sorry," 

"Well, thank you for the lovely meal then, I applaud your ability at taking in poor filth for a night," Louis felt his throat close in on itself as Harry smiled against his hazed eyes and threw him the worst insult he had ever received, "Thank you for the memories and have a grand time selling your soul away to Miss Calder and buying a pistol just for your mouth along the line," Harry said, voice formal and obviously annoyed. He shook Louis' hand nearly throwing it away when he was finished, walking toward the door and already shoving off his bow tie.

"Stop talking that foul language, I don't need your  _help!_ " Louis screeched, holding open the door Harry already passed through. Harry was a good deal down the hall already, a harsh stomp fading into a controlled walk as he ruffled up his hair. Several dinners from the floor below had stalked up to see the angered Louis, face red and eyes glassy as he stared after the new money that was recklessly striding away. With a subtle wipe under both of his eyes, Louis plastered a smile and walked back to his table, lying that Harry had an emergency to attend to. 

Harry broke out into a near sprint as soon as he could, away from the watching eyes of the rich who did nothing but walk over him. That's all the wealthy were good for, walking over people. They didn't know what other humans beings were and they didn't want to. They didn't care. Harry slapped his hands along the line of lifeboats, laying over the rim of the ship to create a world of clutter. He slapped his hand to it, throbbing becoming a welcomed ally. The hollow echo of the wood and open space making him calm. Louis was no different than the rest of those bastards. He wasn't any different than the pricks who tossed Harry ten cents for shining their shoes. He wasn't any different in realizing Harry was a person, not something you could just play with then throw away when things started to stop making sense. Damn it all. Damn it all to Hell. Harry's feet carried him all the way down to the Third Class deck, people passing by and throwing small and concerned 'What's the matter, Harry?'. Third Class were the best damn people here- the only people here. No one else cared enough for human life. Harry shrugged the concerned off, telling him he was merely in a rush to his cabin. Because that was exactly where he was going. In that cabin was Zayn, Liam, Niall, and Kendell and Perrie. They were all he needed. Louis could go off and get married to anyone he wanted, love involved or not.

"There's our baby boy!" Niall hollered when Harry nearly threw the door off its hindges. The curly haired boy groaned, climbing up to the bunk he and Niall shared. Zayn and Liam shared the one below, the bunk across them being reserved for Perrie and Kendall. Each had their own bed as a lady should, though it became obvious that Zayn would be moving into Perrie's bunk sometime tonight, "Woah, who got your knickers in a twist?" Niall joked, laughter faultering when Harry looked up at him with clouded eyes, "Harry? Hey, mate-" Harry said nothing, just laid his head in Niall's lap and groaned. Zayn and Liam shot the girls a glace, who in turn only shrugged lacking the slightest clue what could have been wrong. Niall sighed, placing a hand on Harry's head and pulling his fingers through the curls as Harry so often longed for.

"Seems to me that Curly got his heart broken," Perrie said allowed, meaning to say it more to herself.

Zayn and Liam stood, going to Harry and asking him small questions about his state of mind and if he was going to be alright. Kendall simply moved closer to Perrie with the now available space and sighed into her friend's ear, "I told you they were fond of 'ch other,"

"Was two days he's known the boy, how bad could this be?" Perrie asked, glancing over to the heap of lads huddled into one another.

"Takes but a moment to fall in love, Perrie," Kendall assured, rolling her eyes as if it were the most simple of concepts. 

 


	6. Not Enough Lifeboats

"Who was it that came up with the name 'Titanic' in the first place?" Johannah asked, walking side by side with Thomas Andrews. Louis knew him well, a fine fellow, Chief Designer of the Titanic itself. He spoke business with Louis' father, making the belated tour less welcoming than it already was. While the three adults got on, Louis walked slightly behind, mood sour and most people gladly ignoring him and not giving him the option to speak his mind on anything. Eleanor was stuck close to his side, keeping their arms snaked together despite the earlier tantrum Louis had thrown about not wanting to be touched. His mother said it was something proper and adorable of her to do, but Louis thought she was acting more along the lines of a prison guard. 

"Mr.Ismay did, lovely story actually-" Mr. Andrews began, tilting his top hat slightly upward as it had the tendency to fall over his face. Mr. Ismay was another designer of the Titanic, more famed to it than Andrews. Louis glanced around, no longer interested in whatever story people were planning to laugh at despite the stodgy way of the tale. All he chose to really think about was Harry. He had thought about chasing him down last night, hating the look in his eyes when he stormed off. But, Louis always thought himself a stubborn fellow. He wouldn't give in to whatever his emotions wanted him to do this time. Letting Harry go now was the absolute best way of things in the long run. The two would soon be parted in America and never set eyes on one another again. He grimaced at the idea of never hearing that bright laugh, or being able to look in those emeralds he called eyes ever again. And, in the deepest of his core where Louis could freely admit this, he was right depressed that he never got the chance to actally test Harry's theory of the two of them....being "closer" than most lads ever are. It set his guts into knots and his stomach threatened to implode. Louis focussed instead on the rows on lifeboats that sat next to him. Unlike other vessels Louis had seen, lifeboats didn't line every rim of the Titanic, they were spread out quite nicely, plenty of space between. On the opposite side of the liner, there was a similar standing of them, equally as spread out. Compared to the amount of passengers on the ship and the twenty or so lifeboats surrounding- if something were to go wrong, casualities would be enormous.

"Mr. Andrews," Louis interrupted, getting hard stares from Eleanor and his mother that, frankly, he was in too shit of a mood to give a damn about, "I've noticed that there are quite a large difference in lifeboats compared to people aboard," 

"Darling, that's not-" Eleanor started, always ready to throw out an insult.

Mr. Andrews let out a hearty laugh, a welcoming one, "Nothing gets by you, does it Louis? You've observed correctly. Twenty boats aboard, sixteen ready and four ready to be set-up. Each one able to hold forty to sixty-five passengers. It was my thought to have forty-eight, but," he let out another laugh, "they said the deck would look far too cluttered for everyone's comfort," 

"Sixty-five passengers to twenty boats wouldn't hold half the people aboard," Louis stated, calm and blunt. He simply loved the idea of throwing his abilities in elder's faces. He had noted the mistake, run the math through his head and finally mused out, "Something like sixty boats would be the safest route to go," 

"Getting a little nervous, are we, love?" Eleanor asked, gentle smile against her lips, though her tug on Louis' arm was meant for pain and not an increased pace in his steps, "Mr. Andrews knows what he is doing," Louis wished he could roll his eyes and throw something back. Nothing rude, just a blatant statement that safety over looks should always be the best of deals. But, his mother and father walked ahead of them, eyes glancing back over the couple. Mr. Andrews laughed at them, not enough of a friend to be allowed to know anything Louis thought or felt. And, in the end, Eleanor was a woman and his fiance. She was born to be respected as long as she held her place.

Johannah and Mark shot their son warning glances, claiming that now was not the time to question the build, "Louis, you read the papers back home, this ship is sturdy, unsinkable, you've nothing to get to anxious over," Mark sighed, amusement in his voice though his face reflected the possibility of punishment if his son continued to wag his jaw. 

"Not to worry, young Louis, I've built you a good ship," Mr. Andrews smiled, turning to Louis and patting his head as if he were a child, "It's quite normal, really, for children to get worked up over the smallest of things," Louis felt himself pout, not exactly assisting him in the idea of being an adult. Before he could think of anything more to say, the group was already on their way and starting up on the tour, the bow of the ship their next and final stop. Louis thought he could find it in him now to leave. He had seen this part of the ship at least once both days he had been aboard. He knew every knotch of it, he even understood the horrifying feeling of leaning far too over the edge- that edge that brought so many lovely images into his world. The wooden boards that took his weight when he and Harry laid over them and added each other to their dreams. The place where he felt freedom and carefree and as if he could truly say 'This is Louis Tomlinson' and mean it with the largest of smiles. It's the place where someone told him he ruled it all, that he could fly and he was the kind of the world. 

He was about to open his mouth, ready to say he was far too familiar to find this interesting and tea sounded lovely right now. But, something stopped him. And that 'thing' was a untamed head of curls. He was sitting on the top rail, legs hooked around the ones below so his chances of falling were diminished. He was smiling, people around him laughing and sharing a smoke. Niall sat next to Harry, arm hooked around the brunette's shoulders in a tight hug. Zayn and Liam sat on the floor, passing the smoke back and forth between one another. Perrie and Kendall glanced left and right, taking quick puffs of their own as long as no one was really looking. Louis stayed silent, once again picturing himself in that group, bumming smokes off one another and laughing no matter who looked. It wasn't hard to picture now. He had already had a taste of the 'worse' life, laughed and danced and had the time of _his_ life. He knew what he was missing now, almost every blink of it. He thought he felt the pang of regret in his stomach, the deep feeling of missing something. But, that couldn't be anything more than the rush of avoiding his usual life. He tried to look around, marvel in the ship that was still an absolute amazement, but he always found Harry instead. Eyes eventually just locking onto him and not caring who looked up to see.

Eleanor took notice and spoke up loudly, "Yes, Darling, I know. Having those gutter rats around upsets me as well," Louis turned to her sharply, not missing the looks in their direction. Eleanor simply smiled, "I'd treat my dog better,"

Louis didn't dare turn around to look. He wasn't prepared to see hurt expressions, right back to where they started. He just glared at Eleanor until the smile was wiped off he face, eyes still sharp and posing a threat, "Least we're reminded where we stand," Niall scoffed out, voice working to sound tough and yet still leaking hurt. Louis turned around, eyes casting over the faces, most of which were laughing at it, not hurting. Perrie and Kendall mocked Eleanor's stance, hooked arm and arm to mock how to tried to glide against the current of a moving ship. Zayn and Liam sent their natural voices into higher pitches to mock how she spoke, and then spewing unitelligent words in spite of her. Niall even joined the fun by kissing the top of Harry's head and screeching out crackly 'Ellie's in spite of Louis himself. The only one that did look hurt, the only one not partaking in the endless mockery and jokes was Harry. He simply stared at Louis, throwing his used cigarette out to sea and sighing.

"How could we ever forget?" he asked, eyes still locked with Louis. A chill rushed down his spine, the blank expression on the younger boy's features more upsetting than it was the night before. Not accepting another word, Louis was tugging Eleanor along to catch up to his family, already walking away and about ready for lunch. He was ready for that, to slip back into his society and forget about Harry Styles and everything charming about him. Ready to slip into his fortune and leave behind dreams and get ready to be a good husband to the love of his life. 

The dining hall was nice, windows clear to let the light flood in. A useless chandelier hung above, lighting nothing and simply there for looks. The tables were wood, deep brown and covered with white cloth cut in gorgeous patterns. Flowers sat in a bundle in the center, coloured and popping out of the nearly colourless environment around them. Chairs sat in a circle, one reserved for himself and his family, Louis was sure. Waiters and workers buzzed about, greeting Mr. Andrews and the crowd with smiles that were way too eccentric. They were sat in a table in the middle of the room, chandelier swaying above them, and gentle music from the band drifting into the back of conversation. 

Tea was laid in front of Louis, each person receiving their own cups and lacing them with milk or sugar however they preferred. Louis moved sluggishly, his thirst for the liquid not nearly as strong as it should be. He allowed Eleanor to pick whatever food for him, not having much of an appetite. His eyes stayed glued in the way his tea swirled in the center the more that he mixed in nothing. All he could picture was Harry. Harry and his bright laugh, enticing face, the way he could just be adorable and probably not even know it. He needed to stop. Harry was nothing special, and he certainly wasn't right about 'fate' or whatever he believed had brought them together. It was coincidence. And, people don't make something so large out of coincidence. Louis shook Harry away and stared at Eleanor. She was gorgeous, yeah. The envy of every woman aboard, and most likely the desire of every man. She had money. As low down as it seemed, Louis did allow that to grace his mind. The rich were born to be with the rich after all, weren't they? 

His food was laid out in front of him, far too dashing and based on looks just like the room around him was. He looked away, feeling sick to his stomach at everything around him including himself. He looked away from the table, from everything, from his parents and Eleanor. And his eyes met with another family, each laughing except for a little boy. He was no older than ten, sitting so straight it looked like his spine would snap as he looked down to make sure his napkin was placed perfectly in his lap. He looked uncomfortable. Louis remembered that. How everything was about how he stood or sat and where he learned to place this and that. He was trained like a dog, an order being an order, never talk out of turn, never yell, never cackle because you actually found something that entertaining. No drinking too much, no dancing unless you knew the steps, no enjoying yourself. No living. Louis felt the walls of his throat close us, swell with the sting of tears in his eyes as he felt more empathy than he thought one could. He stared at that boy, already having lived his life. The rest of his life would be the way it was now. Endless parties and gossip and no one giving a damn about anything but their money. He began hyperventilating, viewing his life next to Eleanor and bringing up his own son like he was brought up. Going into the family business even if he didn't understand one word of it. He couldn't breathe. It was all too much. He felt like someone was taking the life out of him, not letting him go long enough to breathe or scream and all he could do was sit there because he was being...

Suffocated.

"Louis? Sir, is everything alright?" A servant to the Tomlinson family asked: Daniel Deakin. Louis hadn't even noticed until now that he had stood up, everyone around the dining hall staring at him as if he had gone mad. Louis threw his napkin down to the table, smiling at the feeling of not needing to fold it for once. He began walking toward the door, "Sir, where are you going?" Daniel continued to ask through clenched teeth, Louis' family and Eleanor standing up to get a better look.

Louis pressed his hand to the door, turning with a bright smile on his face, "Harry," he laughed, purposely loud enough to echo through the hall. Eleanor looked absolutely enraged, about to scream had Louis not bolted out the door and began a harsh sprint through the ship. He could only hope the boy was still sitting on the railing of the bow, because rushing around the boat longer than he needed to would only result in him getting caught. He was laughing, shoving past people and not even stopping to apologize. His breath escaped him, and yet he felt like he could breathe for the first time. He came to the bow much faster than he expected, though this was the first time he ever ran there. He breathed out words that made no sense, finding 'Harry' to be his favourite.

It didn't take him long to find Harry, sitting by Niall and laughing to themselves about nothing, "Louis!" he heard behind him. He turned to see Daniel, chasing him at a much faster pace than he expected. "Shit" Louis cursed out, cackling to himself and increasing his sprint toward the boys. The crowd looked up, eyes widening as Louis darted up to Harry, grabbing his hand and trying to tug him along.

"Louis, what are yo-" Harry started with a slight smile.

"I'll explain later, come on," Louis sounded panicked, absolutely breathless and yet a wide smile on his face. Daniel was dangerously close by the time the two were running off, leaving a very confused crowd behind them. Harry allowed himself to be pulled along, laughing at the way the older man trailing them tripped over everything to keep up. Louis was never more thankful for the tour, as boring as it was it made a world of a difference while he was running. 

"Who is that? Where are we going?" Harry stammered, nearly tripping to the floor hadn't Louis' hand been there to keep him upright. Louis only responded with a laugh and a harsh tug through the doors of the Grand Ballroom, the rich pulling up from their chairs and ready to tell a thing or two to the rude boys bouncing by. But, they were already out the door and at the other side of the ship, mumbling barely autoble apologies to anyone they had accidentally sent to the ground. Louis pulled Harry into an elevator, begging the worker inside to take them down. He stood there shocked as the pair begged, though Harry hadn't the slightest clue as to why. He just begged like Louis, enjoying the look on the older boy's face when the man chasing them was forced to come to a halt at the gates that blocked the hall from the inside of the moving shaft.

"Bye bye!" Louis called, winking at Daniel and cackling to himself. Daniel looked absolutely pissed, eyes shooting to Harry, who he obviously recognized from the night before. With force, Daniel turned and headed for the stairs that would be his way down. When the elevator met with the bottom, the worker opening the gate and watching the pair stumble out into the hall with smiles against their cheeks, "Harry, take me to your cabin," Louis demanded with the power lacking in his voice. From behind, he could hear the pounding footsteps from someone running, "Harry, Harry- go, go, go," Louis nearly screamed, Harry grabbing onto his hand and pulling him through the cramped halls of the Third Class. They still slammed through people, though they only laughed this time and cheered the boys on when they saw the familiar face of Louis. Both were nearly dying, choking on the air that chapped their throats and poured venom into their aching muscles. Both slid around a corner, slamming into the opposing wall and losing a good moment of time.

Harry glanced back to see the old man closer than he was expected to be. Too close to escape into the cabin without trapping the two,"Come on," Harry called, tightening his grip on Louis' hand and dragging him along, glancing at his cabin before he continued on. He weaved through the thin corridors, living in the innocent expression of Louis feeling lost. He dragged him all the way to a specific door, labeled 'Employees Only'. Harry looked left and right, smiling to Louis before pulling him in and shutting the door behind them. The light of the world had left, only darkness and a red glow allowed sight. Industrial material surrounded them, and the smell of burning everything invaded the air. Louis remembered hearing something about the lowest levels of ship- the gears and engine that made all of it possible.

"Where are we? We shouldn't be here, Harry-" Louis panted, suddenly panicking with the realization of what family situation he had just gotten himself into and getting ready to turn around, only greeted with the feeling of being pressed up against Harry.

"We can't go 'til he does," Harry motioned, finishing off his fit of laughs to regain his breath. An uncomfortable silence dawned over the two, both remembering that last night's conversation wasn't the most pleasant. They stood, eyes adjusting to the light so all they could do was stare at the colourlessness that was their faces. Harry tried to back away, only feeling the shocking heat that was the door. Had the room always been this hot or was it only because so much heat was being burned up here? "So, uh, I...Better get back to the othe-" 

Louis crashed their lips together, pulling against Harry's braces to bring him forward. Louis felt as though he was kissing nothing, and was ready to pull away and apologize just as Harry pressed into the kiss. There was no movement at first, just a mouth to mouth touch until Louis threatened to pull away. Harry responded by grabbing behind his neck and keeping him firmly in place. Louis didn't know how long they stayed like that- seconds, minutes, days, months- he didn't care. He felt like he was floating, like some sort of fire was being made in his chest and the heat spread through his whole body. Something between where his lips were and how his heart fluttered against his will told him something, finally, had gone perfectly right. He still felt absolutely lost when they both broke away, needing air they didn't even have in the first place since they sprinted across the entire boat.

"Hope that, um,  _explains_  something about why I got you," Louis stammered out, flustered and decided he would gladly let Daniel in if he found them any minute. 


	7. You Jump, I Jump

Harry and Louis had made their way through the Engine Room, asking several crew members how to get out. Each one gave them hopeful directions and sent the two lost lads on their way. The heat of the room was blazing, successfully stripping the boys of their coats and sweating the grease out of Louis' hair, letting him realize his hair was very much in need of a trim. Through the heat, their hands stayed wrapped together, no matter how they became slick with sweat. They had managed to learn everything about one another in an elongated walk that could have been over in mere minutes.

"And, when I was fifteen- after my folks died- Gemma and I moved in with Niall. Easier to make rent on land and stuff when you got more people," Harry explained. Louis learned that Harry had an elder sister, Gemma, who was waiting back in Ireland for her brother to come back with a new fortune and a better life. He also learned Harry moved around often, grabbing job after job no matter how disgusting or terrible it was. When he wasted breaking his back for a penny an hour, he was being treated pretty terribly by his father. Usless abuse from nights of whiskey and ale gave Harry quite the subtle fear of adult man, and authority all together frightened him. Compared to Louis' life, Harry's world was worse than Hell. Louis thought of himself as a spoiled brat, complainging about absolutely nothing in his pampered life. Here he was, living the life so many people dreamed of and still complaining about it all. His sorrow was nothing more than a childish tantrum, "Misery is misery, Louis, doesn't matter where it comes from," Harry smiled, seeing right into Louis' mind. 

They came to a door, thin and painted over cruelly as the others had been, the very exit the crew members told them of. When they entered the next room, a cool air settled over them and sent their throbbing bodies into a huddled freeze. The room was nothing more than extra storage, baggage and crates from classes and crew that they couldn't bother keeping above. Boxes sat ontop of one another, fancier bags topping them. There were no windows or portholes around, the only window out to the rest of the ship being the staircase that would lead back to the Third Class deck. Flickering lights hung from the ceiling, lighting the room in a dim light. In the center of the room, there was a car, red and black. Freshly shined and built for the driver to sit on the outside and drive around some First Class couple. the accessories around the vehicle were gold, steering wheel and horn coated in a shining metal paint. Harry's eyes lit up, smile breaking out on his face with the first glimpse of a car. He pulled Louis along, rushing through the storage and to the car with a smile on his face. When they made it, Harry ran his hand over the surface and seemed to live in the sleak surface under his palm.

Louis shook their hands apart, grasping onto the thin door handle instead and opening the door. Harry caught sight of this and Louis' open palm waiting for him. He gently laid a hand on Louis', stepping into the car to find leather covered seats. Flowers hung lightly from the corners of the box shape. In front of Harry, through the thin, glass window that separated the driver from the passenger, Louis hopped into the driver's seat, placing his hands to the golden wheel and blaring the horn into an echo around the room. Harry chuckled, leaning forward to lower the glass, shockingly easy and he nearly broke it. Louis leaned back, lining his head with Harry's when he leaned forward on his elbows. They glanced around at nothing, Louis mainly watching Harry as his eyes scanned over the works of the car as if it were a marvel.

"We'll buy one just like this, yeah?" Louis asked, pressing his hand to start the horn once again.

"We'll?" Harry asked, finally turning to glance at Louis, only finding himself locked onto his eyes instead. They stared at one another for some time, hands finding each other once again and wrapping each other with a gentle embrace.

"When this ship docks," Louis smiled, placing his forehead to Harry's and living in the way Harry suddenly looked flustered and blushing, "I'm getting off with you," Harry's expressions changed quite quickly, confusion to shock to nerves and finally to eccentric glee. He had a smile locked on his face, yet his brow furrowed as if to ask whether or not he was serious, "You make me do crazy things, Harry. I thought we discovered this when I almost fell to my death yesterday," 

"I would have gone in after you. You jump, I jump, yeah?" Harry stated, smile slowly fading and eyes casting down to Louis' lips for a few moments before going back to the blue in his opposite's eyes. Harry's eyes were innocent, bright and shining and yet asking for one thing, "Louis, how fast can someone fall in love?" Harry asked, eyes trying deperatly to read into Louis' mind.

Louis pondered it for a moment, the thought of being in love. He had known Eleanor for slightly longer than a year, and not once had he thought to look at her with eyes of love. Perhaps it was that no matter how much time you were given with someone, it was hopeless in trying to fall in love with them. Or, maybe Eleanor just wasted the person he was destined to be with. Perhaps love was when you caught a quick glance behind and saw curls bouncing up the gangway. A good option might be when you sneak into a party and a drunken mess falls over you. Maybe it was nearly falling over the front of a ship into freezing water with a boy laughing behind you. But, Louis felt that love was sitting, hand busy with holding someone else's and heads touching so you could feel the frozen breath on your lips, "However long it takes," Louis whispered, pressing a quick kiss to Harry's lips. It was quick, chaste and innocent, and not enough. Before long, their lips were moving together, pressing into the kiss and making the separation of the thin line of car metal far too great.

"Right this way, Sir, they asked how to get here," a crew member said. Louis broke off the kiss to glance behind. Daniel and two other workers were glancing through the storage. Louis tugged at Harry's hands, pulling the boy through the open hole and cursing himself at the way his body against the metal made a large thud. The shuffle of feet toward the car was effective enough in both boys getting out of the car and heading up the steps in a roar of feet. The familiar clench of the tight Third Class hallways returned, the boys only jogging through copies of corridors over and over. Louis allowed Harry to take the lead, giding them through the halls that Louis would have already been lost in, and surely Daniel would give up trying to muster through. 

Harry dragged Louis behind him, passing by people who he briefly socialized with before they noticed the disheveled Louis behind him. Louis took notice in how he wasn't wearing the usual coat and his hair wasn't slicked back as the lower class was used to seeing him in. All eyes landing on his messied appearance made him only more uncomfotable. With a laugh in his throat, Harry continued to rub his thumb along the back of Louis' hand as they pulled to a cabin room. Against the flimsy door frame was a set of gold painted numbers: 317. He glanced left and right, looking for his mates that he wouldn't expect to be roughing about in a stuffy room cramming far too many people for comfort, but he had to be sure. When the room was full of nothing but hot air, he allowed Louis entrance and shut the door behind him. For the first time, Louis was able to look around and get a fine look at the room. There were four bunks, not nearly enough to store the members Louis knew had to be stored in here. The beds sat on dark wood, polished to look more expensive than it really was. There was only one porthole to be used as a window, doing nothing for the thick air they had to breathe it. Only one light was used, flickering with the sway of the ship and making the room slightly dim. The walls and floor were a boring white, matching the thin look of overused mattresses with sheets not thick enough to warm a rat. He could imagine Harry and Niall sharing the bed, clinging to one another because those blankets did no good against the cold air. He couldn't help but feeling a strange of possession and jealousy at that thought.

"You've been eyeing the bed for some time now," Harry chuckled, hoisting his body over to his mattress, enjoying how it happened to be the one Louis was caught up in, "Trying to tell me something, are we, Louis?" he asked, dragging out the first syllable of Louis' name and tilting his head dramatically to the side. Louis would have been annoyed at the obnoxious jokes Harry was pushing, had his little angel not been sporting the most innocent of smiles. So, he let out a chuckle instead, folding his hands behind his back and dipping his head down to hide his giddy grin. When he did look back up, Harry was leaning over the edge of his mattress, weight braced on his arms and pushing that smile closer to the older boy.

Louis met him half way, though the idea of letting the clumbsy boy fall to the floor did cross his thoughts. They were close now, able to count each speck of colour in the irises of the other, glorifying the green and blue rainbow. Louis simply kept his amazed smile on his face, eyes following every area of Harry's precious face, to which Harry responded with a high pitched and impatient whine. Louis lifted his hands to caress Harry's porcelain cheeks, muttering a soft, "Come here," before placing their lips together. Louis felt his heart flutter when Harry let out the most content of sighs, as if the taste of Louis' lips were the only thing he ever craved. Louis rose his height by pressing up on his toes, allowing his lips to be ever more pressed into Harry's perfect ones. Sweet, soft touches were shared with the purity of innocence that was growing exceptionally cliche for either of the boy's liking. So, with another impatient and high pitched whine from Harry, and Louis blindly stumbling, both boys found their way to Harry's bunk- pulling their lips apart only once so Louis could let out a bubbly laugh. As soon as the chaos has passed, though, both lads resumed their movement of their lips against each other's, Harry's arms wrapping around Louis' shoulders and Louis tracing undetermined patterns into the younger's leg. With a generous force of his thumb to jaw, Louis managed to open Harry's mouth and slip his tongue inside, finally breaking the white air surrounding them.

Harry shuddered at the whimper he allowed to escape from his throat as Louis' tongue happily explored every area of his mouth, moving his hand higher and higher on his inner thigh. Just as Harry had overcome the initial flustered shock coming from his mouth, he felt Louis' palm ghost contact over his clothed crotch, earning a cheeky smile from Louis at the response. Harry waited for Louis to begin moving his palm, to which the relief never came. But the hand over his crotch seemed so enticing, and his hips gyrated without control. The movements of his hips was small and hesitant at first, twitches back and forth that were barely noticible, but they grew into smooth flowing bucks into Louis' open palm, to which the connection of their lips was finally broken so Harry could slap a hand over his mouth. His green eyes focussed on the angel in front of him, whose blue eyes were staring right back at him, glazed over with an unfamiliar lust, his tongue running over his bottom lip before his teeth bit down over the pink flesh. The sight sent a shock of arousal through Harry, causing his hips to buck forward with a sudden drag of force and the inability to hold back his breathless moan. "Please," Harry whined, different than his impatient ones of before.

"Please what, hmm?" Louis asked, eyes scanning down to the placement of his hand for a moment before looking back up into Harry's eyes. His voice was low and rough, sending another shock of pleasure through his young lover's body. Harry wasn't ready to allow his pride to slip enough to pawn into Louis' game, so, with little force due to Louis' willingness, Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' back and pulled the two of them to the mattress until Louis was fully on top of Harry. Their crotches rubbed together on the way down, both boys opening their mouths in silent moans, and Louis continuing the movement without a second thought. Their hips rolled together in perfect unison, continuing a steady rhythm with timed pauses of when to remove another article of clothing that only added to the temperature of the room. Harry felt his face heat up when the distraction of pleasure stopped as Louis decided to take a long look at the now naked Harry. On a natural instinct, Harry felt his embarrassment get the better of him and he curled in on himself. Louis reacted immediately, entwining his fingers with Harry's and smiling down at him, "You're gorgeous," Louis mused, placing their lips back together and slipping his tongue back into Harry's mouth before he could protest.

When Louis finally pulled back for air, he was greeted with a very needy Harry, squirming beneath him and eyes filled with unshed tears, "L-Louis, I want," He began, wrapping his legs around the older boy's lower back to bring him closer. That seemed to bring Louis to the brink, nearly shoving him over the edge just from looking at Harry's obvious state. Letting out a shaking breath to compose himself, he place two fingers in front of Harry's lips, earning the most adorable 'lost puppy' expression he had ever witnessed, "Suck," he demanded, though his voice still remained light.

Placing his trust into the other, Harry sucked the two fingers into his mouth, ashamed to say it aroused him more. He added a generous amount of saliva to his touch, thoroughly running his tongue over both digits, eyes locked on Louis the entirity of the time. Louis marvelled at the sight, circling his hips into air in an attempt to feel anything. He could only watch for some time before Harry's sinful lips enticed him, and he replaced his own mouth with his fingers. He kept their mouths attatched while both digits rubbed against Harry's legs before slipping inside-

Harry's body jerked as his body attempted to push away from the sudden rush of pain sent through him. Louis almost had to fight to keep Harry in place through his insistence to take his fingers out. With a kiss to his forehead, the squirming stopped and Harry seemed content to just wait until Louis would understand to move. The room fell silent until Harry let out a small moan to announce Louis to move. Working slowly, Louis pumped his fingers in and out, watching the work of art that was Harry's pleasure contorted face. The room's previous silence seemed like a distant memory with the amount of noise Harry was making from simply having two finger's scissoring him open, so much so that Louis placed his free hand over his mouth to dull the, admittedly, arousing sounds. Before Harry got too close to his climax, Louis withdrew his fingers with a whimper from Harry from the lack of contact. The euphoric mood seemed to stall for a moment as Louis lined himself between Harry's legs with nervous movements and breaths and silent prayers to please. 

Then, with one push, he slid in Harry's entrance. Both lads let out a shared moan, voices wavering and bodies tensing with the new sensation. Then, Louis pulled out until he was almost fully out, and slammed back in, earning a high pitched  _'oh'_ from the boy beneath him. Together they found a rhythm and an extremely loud volume, something that neither cared much about in the presence of each other. Harry let out a scream as his body tensed up at one of Louis' thrusts. With a smirk, Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's hips and lifted them into the air. The thrusting continued with a new fury, shock waves of pleasure going through Harry to the point where he thought he might break. With a possessive grab, Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' shoulders and his legs around Louis' back, keeping their bodies as close as possible. Through the moans and mindless mumbling of Harry, Louis managed to hear his name in the eruption, sending shivers down his spine and allowing him to send out a rough groan. He racked his fingers through Harry's curls, making the two meet with eye contact, "Say it again," Louis breathed.

"Louis," Harry moaned out, repeating the name over and over in time to Louis' thrusts as the older boy began sucking a bite into his neck. As they continued, Louis' name began to echo louder and louder through the room as Harry met each thrust with an eager push. Black spots began clouding Harry's vision, heat building in his lower stomach and sending his mind into the sky, floating around in the world that was Louis and the grace he brought with him. Harry easily hooked his arms around Louis' back, dull nails scratching down his back and welcoming his thrusts in. With an arch of his spine, the heat in his stomach seemed to vanish, white ropes of cum spreading across his chest and around the sweat covered sheets. Louis followed almost immediately after, biting on the meeting point between Harry's neck and shoulder, still thrusting into Harry until his climax ended.

Louis collapsed next to Harry, both lads panting and living in the after glow of their orgasms, sharing quick touches and lazy kisses before using the already wrecked sheets to clean the mess Harry would have to ignore for the sake of Niall. Once all was settled, both boys lied on their sides, hands locked into one another somewhere in the middle, and one hand messing around with the back most of Harry's curls. Looking into Harry's emerald eyes, Louis found something took over him, breath taken away, stunned into placing their lips together another chaste time. The older lad savoured the sweet and lazy touch, fondly staring at Harry when both pulled away, "I love you, Harry," he breathed out without thinking, a blush covering his cheeks when he came back into reality, Harry's giggles not helping his flustered phase.

"I love you too," Harry answered, voice small and fading as he hid his face under his sweat soaked pillow. 

 


	8. You're Not to See That Boy

Louis stood outside his state room, skin tingling against the chilled-no-freezing air, and arm throbbing with the bone shattering grip of Daniel at his side. It hadn't taken long after he and Harry had left the room. They had rushed up the deck and into stinging air, their skin feelings as though thousands of needles poked through them. Whilst their walk along the deck, Louis learned of Harry's terrible ability to handle the cold. He trembled and curled in on himself, eyes going glassy as blood rushed to flush his nose and cheeks a bright red, stealing the colour of his lips and leaving a light kiss of blue. Harry was freezing right in front of him, his only idea being to lead Harry around the deck, a random hug or kiss to keep him laughing- though Louis would always feel the almost scolding sting of Harry's skin. With barely any hope left, convinced Harry would die if they stayed up any longer, Louis spotted Niall. He thought it was just Niall at first, Zayn and the other three appearing out of no where, concerned looks plastered to their faces at the sight of Harry. Perrie had run off, seeming to know every cog of the ship, more than any designer or captain could ever hope. She came back with a quilt, green and yellow plaid pattern being placed happily over Harry's shoulders and head. Niall explained that Harry was shit in the cold as he had Anuma- which Louis assumed was Niall's faulty knowledge of Anemia. Naturally, food and drink not shuffling through his body whenever he most desired, Harry wasn't at the highest in health, resulting in a disease and a terrible disadvantage in the slightest of colds.

Sitting on the deck with the others was a dream, as expected. But, his own arrogance that he could get away with sitting openly on the deck was his downfall. Daniel stormed up to him, two crew members with flashlights to see through the dark hull of the ship, the moon blocked with a settling fog. By the time Louis had noticed, a hand was already brought to his cheek, the slap burning harder with the sensitivity of his frozen cheeks. Those behind Louis stood up, Harry rushing over to him to examine the red mark against his skin. Harry recognized Daniel as the man that chased them, a servant for the Tomlinson family- Louis had explained. He didn't expect a mere servant to have the right to lay a hand on his Louis, and the natural instinct to protect came into play rather quickly. 

"It's about time to go back to your mother," Daniel spoke, slow yet powerful as he yanked Louis' chin to assure the lad would look him directly in the eye. Louis refused at first, shaking his head out of the bruising hold and spitting against the elder's cheek. Daniel wiped the saliva off with a slow swipe of his free hand, squeezing harder against Louis' jar until the young man let out a pained whimper. He refused to go, expecting a scolding he didn't deserve for simply going after what would make him happy, "Immediately, filthy whore," Daniel announced. Louis froze, staring at Daniel with wide eyes, "You and your boy here are quite loud, it was as if you wanted me to find you," he laughed. Louis' breath escaped him, still shaking his head and begging for Daniel to just turn around and pretend he never saw him. The group behind Louis grew louder, growing protective of the lad and trying to shoo the man away. Liam even fighting to hold back a very hyperactive Niall from losing his temper.

"We're begging you, here," Harry stated simply, fingers rushing to meet with Louis'. Daniel's eyes were cast down, the affection not going unnoticed, but by the time Harry had seen it was far too late. A harsh slap was planted against Harry's face, all concerned watchers behind rushing their attention to him. Daniel rubbed his hands together, the palm of his right a painful red. Louis turned to see Liam holding Zayn back this time, and Niall tilting Harry's head into the light to see the bright red spot against his pale cheek, Perrie sticking by Zayn's side with a pleading look in her eyes, and Kendall simply awe struck at everything happening at once.

"Teach the mutts their place," Daniel spat, stepping forward slightly, and effectivly causing Harry to cower into Niall's arms. Abuse. Louis remembered. Harry was abused with more than just a chiding slap, and he was terrified of nothing more than it happening again. Louis looked at Harry, whose frightened face was more like a kick in the stomach. If Louis had just stayed in his place and ate his meal, this problem wouldn't be here. Louis swallowed a burning heart break, before shoving his hands behind his back and composing himself so his guilt wouldn't show through easily.

"Right then," Louis choked out, voice hoarse from the cold air, "Shall we be on our way?" Daniel turned, angered face relaxing into a blank stare of nothing, bumping past Louis and toward the state room without waiting for the boy to follow. Only spared moments of time, Louis strode forward, crashing his lips into Harry's quickly and muttering a soft, "I'll be back," into his ear before turning on his heels and being yanked into Daniel's grip, keeping him from running off again. Daniel dragged him all the way to the room, never letting go or loosening the grip, Zayn and Liam's screams and curses being farther and farther backed into the distance the farther across the boat the pair walked. 

Louis was thrown into the room, stumbling over his feet and nearly crashing into the ground to make his entrance. Eleanor and his mother stood in the center of the room, hands covering their mouths and their eyes wide at the messed hair and clothes of their once proper boy. Louis' father was no where to be seen, most likely out with other chaps and drinking until the brandy ran dry, and Louis could only silently thank God for that. Eleanor looked as though she was about to burst into tears and scream, bottom lip quivering and eyes trying to read Louis like Harry could. Daniel stepped in after him, placing a harsh hand on the young boy's shoulder and feigning, quite obviously, a smile, "I found him running with the dogs," Daniel stated simply, Johannah backing slightly as though she was going to produce bile, "Seems he's also  _mated_ with the largest mutt of them all," Daniel laughed, Johannah's face fading into shocked anger, stomping over to her son and placing two harsh hands against his shoulders.

"Louis William Tomlinson," she threatened, acting as though the use of his full name would still strike fear through him, "Daniel better be lying to me,"

"Wouldn't be the first time, Mother, I'm sure he lies every word after you two make love," Louis raised his eyebrows, receiving a slap from his mother, as was to be expected. A shocked shriek following from Eleanor, who still shivered helplessly in the corner.

"What has gotten into you? What have I done to you? What have I done to deserve all you've done recently?" Johannah cried, "I am your mother and you aren't to speak to me that way. I've raised you finer than what you're presenting," Johannah took some time, pacing back and forth in jagged lines as Louis rubbed the sting out of his cheek, never getting used to the shock of skin against skin, "Are you nervous for the wedding, Darling? Mr. Andrews tells me the ship will break such a record of getting to America that you'll have an extra day to shake your nerves and break the rules you want," Johannah sounded soft now, desperation taking hold as she believed she could finally understand her son.

"I'm not marrying Eleanor," Louis proclaimed, voice weak against the heated air. Eleanor looked up, eyes wide and broken, tears forming that she tried to blink away with no hope, "I'm not marrying her, Mother. I'm not merging the money or taking the business. I'm not..." Louis' throat closed when his mother looked to him with tears in her own eyes, shock edging in the corners of her mouth, "It isn't just rebellion. I love him, Mother. I love Harry and I'm going to get off with him in America and be with him," Louis took short and slow steps toward his mother, hand reaching out to touch her shoulder, fingers gently pressing into her skin.

"Oh, horse shit, Louis!" Eleanor shouted, being the first thing to shock his mother enough to gasp against the man-meant term, "Love him, do you? A poor rat who's better off dead? You chose that over me? Your  _love_ is detestable, and you know it. You don't even believe it yourself, it's such shit. You're marrying me, and you know it," Eleanor scoffed, laughing and wiping any loose tears from her anger eyes and flushed cheeks. As she looked up to Louis, she almost held a look of wavering hope of his swaying opinion.

"I'm going to be with Harry-" Louis began, his arm suddenly shoved away from his mother's shoulder by her own hand.

"You're not to see that boy again, dear," Johannah spoke carefully, clearly. The words echoed in Louis' skull, bouncing against the walls and letting him relive the inflections and mosaic tone over and over, "I mean it. You're coming with us to America whether it pleases you or not. You'll be much happier with Elea-"

"Dear? Dear? Lay off the shit, Mother," Louis snapped, soft voice he reserved for her suddenly lifting into a scream and tears stinging somewhere from the corner of his eyes. Johannah snapped her head back, backing away from the sudden outburst of her son, "I'll be happy with her? No, I won't-you'll be happy with her. As long as you get to keep your diamonds and gowns, you don't give a damn whether or not I suffer. America is a wonderous place, Father can strike fortune without Eleanor there, and you won't need to kill me to keep the things you love most around. I want to be with Harry, Mother, please-"

"Enough with Harry!" Eleanor snapped, silencing Louis as it was the first time he had heard her break her fragile exterior and shout, "Harry is nothing and always will be nothing! You're my fiance, Louis, and I intend to make you into my husband,"

"Listen here, Son. You will not see Harry Styles again. You will not see him, speak of him, or even think of him. Am I being clear enough? Daniel will be staying with you in this room until we dock and by then you will have forgotten about that filth. Do you understand?" Johannah chided, waving her finger in front of Louis' face and motioning to Daniel when his name was mentioned. Eleanor smiled, happiness overtaking her at the way she acheived whatever she desired. When Louis gave a half-hearted nod at his mother's words, she turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Eleanor, Louis, and Daniel to stand with different emotions. Daniel took note of the air in the room, bowing to Eleanor before he entered the next link of the state room, his Father's room.

There was a silence. A silence Louis begged would stay because he didn't want to hear anyone's voice but Harry's. He didn't want Eleanor to ruin at least one thing in his world that she hadn't already shattered. She stepped lightly over to him, scanning him up and down with her eyes, before placing her lips to his. He didn't shove her off, simply locked his hands behind his back and pressed his lips as close into a line as he could, forcing her to understand. Eleanor pulled away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger as she stomped her foot into the ground.

"What? You can make love to a bastard you've known for three days but you can't kiss the love of you life?" She asked, scoffing when Louis remaining silent, eyes flaring with anger at the cruel mention of Harry, "I bet he's sold his body before. You cannot be his first and only choice. Drinking and no money around, his arse has been in the air for more than just you, love-"

"Eleanor, stop," Louis snapped, letting out a breath to calm himself.

"I'll always be faithful, darling. I'll never need to sell my body like the dirty whore he is. You can't blame him. He had no other option. Might be dead if he hadn't taking the chances with the alley cats,"

"Eleanor,"

"Did you ever asked where he worked? A whore house would be fitting. He was just hungry for a poke, Darling. You can't be so naive to not see," Eleanor smirked, backing away with Louis raised his hand in a threat to slap her. He wrapped his hands together to settle himself, placing them over his face, "He did do me one favour, sweet lad. You look absolutely lovely with your hair as such," Louis backed away from her touch when he took notice of her hand in his peripheral vision. He chose to walk to the bed and sit, head still in his hands as he refused to look at her, "You're never going to see him again, Louis. Be thankful. I saved you. You'll see quite soon," Eleanor smiled, striding off to open the door to allow Daniel in before she headed out as his mother had done earlier.

His eyes were glassed with tears, heavily threatened to fall as he pictured Harry waiting for him by the gangway in America, standing in the cold with a blanket aound him and nothing to his name. All he would be able to do was watch Louis climb into the car, not knowing a thing and not hearing of anything from him until the publication of his marriage became known. The last thing he would see of his Harry would be the pained face as Niall tried to drag him away, the curls not bobbing with glee as Louis hoped they always would. Then, he would get in a car and be gone, and never have the blissful sight of him again. He shook the thoughts from his head and focussed on how he would get to Harry tomorrow. How he could sneak out before Daniel was aware and find his Harry before anymore could go wrong.

"Fear not, young Louis, everything will certainly be better this way, if only you'd forget about it," Daniel sighed, voice holding a tone of understanding that made Louis want to snap the bed in half. But the, for once, soft hand to his shoulder told him that Daniel meant none of it out of mockery. Louis willed himself to wait until his servant stepped out of the room before allowing the tears to spill over, as a man never cried in front of others.

 


	9. You're a Good Liar

Harry waited until his body was taken over with a numbing chill that made his skin feel like rubber. Cold breath escaped into the air and lingered longer than ever before, as if staying to keep his mind in a constant form of company. The blanket around his twitching form was frozen to his figure, taking the weak outline of him into a permanent mark. Everything was slow and numb, and he remembered thinking that this must be what dying felt like. Black surrounded him, peaking in through the corners of his eyes and making the world shift to one focal center. His last dot of vision remained on the corner of the ship that Louis had disappeared around. He could remember the feeling of their lips together. It felt amazing, softer than anything he'd ever felt, and sweeter than anything he ever wished to taste again. It was short, a quick press that left him yearning for more, his mind locked on the frantic blue eyes that had disappeared. He lingered in a constant wait for his Louis, tremors slapping through his body against the cold. 

Niall tracked through the deck, having left Harry two hours ago when he refused to leave without Louis by his side. Liam and Zayn trailed slowly behind, sharing a smoke and focussing more on keeping close to shove the cold away. At the sight of their beloved brother, shock ran through them. Harry looked pale, life drained from his face to make his skin look like the tight ivory of pressed paper, so easy to tear. His eyes were sagged underneath, purple tints staining them and making his forever youthful face looking years older. His lips shivered, twitching open and closed without control, blue stain of the usual plump pink making the image of a corpse withering away. His usual bright eyes were unfocussed and dull, drowsy and feeling his heart slowing somewhere inside him. He was shaking all around, eyes the only steady thing as his stared at the corner, eyes begging into the air for someone to appear from around the way. Niall sprinted to him, wrapping his arms around his younger friend and feeling shock at the chilled touch of the blanket. Harry was shaking as if he were frightened, muscles twitching involuntarily up and down as he merrily pressed his body as far into Niall's as he could. Zayn and Liam had thrown their smoke right now, running to aid Harry and placing their own arms around him, whispering nothings to him and building up as much warmth as they could between four freezing bodies.

"Come on then, Harry. Let's get you back to the cabin and get you warm," Zayn cooed, nearly demanding through threatening tears. Zayn was the eldest brother figure, protective and concerned through even the lightest of days. He placed his hands to Harry's cheeks when he noted that the boy refused to look anywhere but where his eyes were already set. His skin was iced to the touch, shocking Zayn enough to nearly make him pull away. He controlled the need by simply convincing himself that he was taking care of Harry, and this was the least he could deal with.

"Harry," Liam pleaded, grabbing both of the boy's hands and cupping them, pulling them to his mouth to blow hot air. Harry's fingers twitched with the sudden warmth, adaption taking ahold of them and treating the freezing conditions as a new home and lover. The warmth was new, and sent burning pins into his skin that pained him. Liam tried to pull Harry to his feet, moving slow as he understood changing the postion he had been locked in would be horridly painful to move out of after such conditions were faced.

"H-H-Have to w-wait for L-L-Loui-is," Harry stuttered out, teeth chattering against one another and breath catching in his throat to make his words strained and wrecked. He had trouble even understanding if he had his own English correct, inflections out of place and sounds only pressing out of his throat through desperate breaths and swallows in an attempt to cure his dry throat. He finally pulled his gaze away from the corner, realizing that in the place he was now, Louis would not know if he was there or not behind the wall of warm lads. He was looking at Niall, whose blue eyes sparkled against nothing but his own tears and the galaxy of stars above. Niall gently moved a hand through Harry's curl, finding them stiff and difficult to move. He feared if he moved to fast or with too much force, that the hair would shatter and be nothing more than debris in the wind.

"He's not coming back," Niall said, choking on his words at the sight of his best mate. His eyes were lifeless, the eyes of a dead man who had waited in nothing but agonizing silence and loneliness, nothing around them to keep them sane but simple things no mortal man would ever notice. They were deep green seas of memory and mystery, thoughts and feelings locked away layers deeper than one might attempt. Yet, in the lifeless souls that were the inky dots of his pupils, Niall saw a twitch of sorrow, a flash of heart shattering pain that would have been enough to make him cry had he not been numb to everything around. Harry simply nodded, focussing on his unsteady breaths and gulps of stinging air. With slow and steady steps, Zayn and Liam took Harry's hands and assisted him in standing to his feet, catching him when his knees buckled and he desperatly clung to Zayn, burrying his face into the warm cloth and allowing himself to take slow steps the shook with every inch of the way. In a much longer time then they had ever taken before, the lads made it to the cabin and placed Harry in a bed, body twitching as they donated every thin blanket to his aid and Niall curled into his freezing form for the night.

~*~*~*~*~

Louis wandered through the ship, bored in the decor that he had always set eyes on. Daniel trailed him from behind, a distance between the two so not to throw a punch or slap, but not enough space for Louis to break into a sprint down the decks, going lower and lower until he found the Promised Land. Eleanor and his mother had planned a day for the couple to spend together, tea and lunch and such, nothing important and nothing that would force Louis into falling in love with her.

He was about to turn into the Dinning Hall, looking through the shined windows to see Eleanor already waiting at the table with a soft expression, though he tense fingers in her lap were enough to show her true mood, when he saw two other ladies who remained much more interesting. Perrie and Kendall walked through the deck, Perrie's hair messed back into a tail and Kendall's remaining blowing wildly in the wind. Behind them trailed Niall...then Liam...then Zayn...Louis waited for the sight of the beloved precious that was his forth lad- but no such sight came from around the corner. When the lads caught sight of him, the girls following their eyes to also lock on Louis, they each scowled, eyes converting to glares good enough to sin through nothing but a glance.

"Daniel, I'm going to talk to those fellows over there," Louis stated, embarrassed that he needed to tell the elder where he was going in the first place. Daniel scanned over the crowd; not recognizng any of them as Harry and allowing Louis to walk over to them without the threat of following shortly behind. Louis could still feel the man's eyes piercing into his back, not daring to step into the Hall for fear Eleanor would note how Louis had not entered with him, no matter how close he really was.

"Well, well, well, look who we 'ave 'ere, lads. Looks like he 'ad a pretty night of sleep," Liam slurred, purposely dramaticizing his accent to sound as though he were drunk or in the lowest wakes of the poor. Louis' eyes widened at the sudden rude remark, tiltitng his head in hopes that the glares were simply jokes, "Oh, 'm sorry, mate, did we no' bow to ya? Ge' on your 'ands and knees, lads, the boy wants a proper gree'in'," Liam rolled his eyes, a satisfied smirk appearing over his features for only a moment before it faded back into a scowl.

"Where's Harry?" Louis asked, cursing himself for sounding so desperate and needy.

"Wouldn't you care to know," Niall snapped, throwing the cigarette that sat in his teeth into the sea.

"If you must know, he's in the cabin gaining his body heat back," Perrie stated with a sassed angle to her head, eyes boring into Louis as if he were Lucifer, "We had a bit of a scare with him last night when you left him waiting out in the cold weather for three hours. I thought if you were aware he had Anemia, you might have cared a little, but it seems you were too busy with your girl there to really give a damn," Though he looked as though he wanted to try something as well, Zayn kept a firm hand around Perrie's waist to stop her from any types of attacks.

"What? What are you talking about?" Louis asked, rage growing inside him with the vague ways commoners always answered things. It was as if they expected him to know-...Harry would have waited. Harry would smile when Louis left him with a kiss, then sit himself down and wait in the same spot with a grin plastered to his face, eyes darting around and waiting for him as if he were a new present. Louis never went back that night. It wasn't the way it seemed though, they hadn't a clue how anything had worked out. Louis spent the night crying into the floor, refusing to share a bed with Eleanor, Daniel and several other servants watching over him to make sure he didn't dare try to leave. Had it been Louis' own choice, he would be back with Harry in his shitty bunk, keeping him safe and warm instead of Niall every night. But he had waited, "Oh-God...Bloody Hell, let me see him," Louis panicked, trying to rush past the wall of people, that didn't make any move to nod and allow Louis through. 

"You listen here, prick," Zayn snapped, placing his hands to Louis' shoulders and shoving him back several millimeters, "Harry is getting back all the rest and heat he needs, we only came up here because he is hungrier than anything. He doesn't want a thing to do with you, nothing. Even if he wanted you and begged, we want what's best for him, and you ain't it," Louis felt his heart sink into his abdomen, sliding against mucus stained walls slowly and painfully, "And if you even dare take one step toward my baby brother again, it'll be your head," Zayn's eyes flashed with malice, flickering specks of brown mixing into a black mixture, scanning Louis up and down with one million ways to end his life in less than a flash. With that, they deemed the conversation ended, Kendall, Perrie, Liam, and Zayn shoving past Louis with far from accidental bumps of the shoulder.

Niall tayed, sighing a placing a hand to the shoulder in play and shaking him back and forth for a few seconds, "So, what's your side of the story?" he asked.

Louis was shocked for only moment before taking Niall to lean against the comforting railing. He explained as best he could, everything he had told Harry of his feelings toward Eleanor, and how his opinions of her were greatly altered after the performance she and his mother delivered the night before. Niall only cursed in worlds of colours when the tale was told, and occationally shaking his head back and forth while crinkling the skin of his face into an expression of unsettling distaste. Louis felt Daniel's eyes burning into his back, not enjoying the sight of the boy with the poorer folk; most likely growing suspicious the longer he refused to walk in and sit with Eleanor.

"That Daniel guy, he's the one that lit after the two of you before," Niall noted, eyes flicking to the direction Daniel was standing in, "The one that slapped Harry?"

Louis took in a sharp breath, the image of Daniel's hand striking across Harry's pale cheek replaying in his brain as if he had wished to relive the experience. He only nodded, fake smile of his face as to not alert the older man who was drawing closer and closer the longer the three continued conversation, "My mother has his eyes on me to make sure I go no where near the Third Class section of the ship, and he would slaughter me if he saw me take one step to a deck too low," Louis kept his voice quiet, not glancing anywhere around Daniel, "Can I see him?"

"Zayn is upset, Louis. The four of us? We're....We're like brothers," Niall spoke as hushed as Louis, nodding to himself and trying to think of words to explain what was going on, "Zayn says no, he'll make sure it's a no if it's to protect Harry. Liam might be easier to let up, big softy he is. Getting you to him would take a grand effort with two wardens trailing you," Niall continued nodding, turning away when Louis pulled the face of a lost child just realizing he lost his parents on a crowded street. With that, Daniel had arrived behind him, a chastising hand being placed to his shoulder to warn him without words. Louis had no doubt Daniel had picked up on Harry's name one too many times.

Without a final word, Niall shoved past Daniel and ran off in whatever direction the rest of their gang had gone in. Daniel squeezed Louis' shoulder, a gentle squeeze if one was possible- one that a father would deliver to his son when the empathy he feels in his heart is too similar to the situation at hand. "Don't worry, young Louis, soon your love will be forgotten with more pressing matters...your feelings toward him will become nothing but numb stings," With that, Daniel turned into the Dinning Hall, leaving a confused Louis behind. He could almost say that Daniel had been in a mirrored situation- feeling to tell Louis the things no one bothered to tell him when the time came to it. Louis followed behind, into the Dinning Hall to see Eleanor- her innocent act faultering as she knew Louis had just been speaking with familiar looking 'vermon'. She looked as though she was hiding into herself, to what he didn't bother to try to discover.

"Hello, love," she cooed, smile finally faultering completely when Louis returned nothing in her favour. He sat in his seat, scraping it against the wood so the loud strain would be heard by everyone around, "Love?" she asked when he finally sat down. He didn't even cast her a glance, just stared at the empty table in front of him, trying hard to imagine a happy Harry sitting across from him. He knew they wouldn't be able to afford the life Louis lived now. They would be in Harry's financial situation, working hard and fighting to have time to spend with each other. Surely, though, they would live with Zayn, Niall, and Liam. Perrie and Zayn would be raising a baby, Louis was certain, and Kendall would probably be allowed to pitch in on the mission just as much. That would make the ability to pay for land much simpler, but work would still be involved. Louis was sure he could adapt, and maybe even get a fine job with his name attatched to the bargain, and he could build his way back up to where he was now, a much happier him with a much more loved person sitting across from him. There wasn't anything in the world he wasn't willing to give Harry, not a thing he could think of, "Louis, you must stop this behavior. It makes no sense, and you know it. Get that rat out of your brain and learn how to concept of the world works," Eleanor snapped, voice still hushed so no one around would see through her fragile exterior.

"The world is a sickening place," Louis spat, finally looking over to Eleanor to see her shocked face. He had been seeing it quite often, and he was certain he would be seeing it much more if the two were married. Louis would never make her life easy, he'd become the worst husband the world had ever created if it meant Eleanor would want to leave with haste.

"Oh, please, we have all we need in the world and more. The world is lovely,"Eleanor mused, actually smiling to herself. An expression of fondness past through her features, eyes softening as she scanned over Louis' annoyed face, trying his hardest to intimidate the girl instead of making her laugh. Louis was tempted to say something along the lines of not having Harry, so having all he needed was a useless lie to tell- but he found it would only cause more problems in his direction down the line, "I love you, Darling," she laughed, her voice sounding sincere.

Louis felt his heart sink. He didn't want those words coming from her. He wanted the feelings of dislike to be mutual, make the relationship so full of hate that the world would spit it back out. He had said it to her countless times, true. Each time becoming more and more false and weak. Each time was more of a reason to hate his mother and father, and hope they could sense the horror and beg him to not lie the way he had been. Each time was only another way his parents believed they were doing what was right- making them believe his current behavoir truly would vanish when he was away from the ship and happily lead to America.

"You're a good liar," Louis breathed out, eyes meeting Eleanor's and finding spite without green fireworks flashing into his soul. Her face fell at that, and Louis thought maybe, just maybe, he saw the smug look in her eyes shatter. She looked as if her fiance's words really had stung her, to which Louis cursed himself for because that was never his intention: to hurt anyone. But, she easily brought herself back together, fixing her already straight posture and blinking rapidly to keep tears from falling out of her eyes.

"Almost as good as you," she shot right back with a weak voice, looking down to the menu before waving a waiter to her side. Louis didn't give a damn about what she was asking for, not even bothering to get anything for himself, for that would run the risk of actually staying to eat with her for however long he was obliged to. He watched carefully, eyes drifting from focussing on Eleanor pouring sugar into her tea and into the empty air. His mind wandered about, taking several turns back and forth, always finding that Harry was his favourite thing to think about. His bouncy curls that Louis could happily run his fingers through whenever he felt the need to. His green eyes that would shoot to Louis with childlike innocence and silently beg for something as simple as a cuddle. His smile, the same smile that made electricity spike through Louis' heart and make him want, need, desire, do anything to keep that smile brightly painted to the perfection that was Harry's lovely face. He imagined just Harry, leaning against Louis with his face buried into his neck breathing out happy laughs. His mind seemed utterly focused on HarryHarryHarry, and he was convinced he could even tell Eleanor he loved her with the mood he had placed himself in. 

He decided that his vision of Harry staring after him, eyes wide with shock and fear and pain, would be the literal death of him- and he would give all he could to avoid the sight. He would run off with Harry as soon as Daniel had his back turned and was too weak to even care. He would take his hand or kiss him right there in the middle of the crowd. They would probably scream and God would probably hate the both of them, but he didn't mind anymore, "Get the rat out of your head, love. I would hate to see you go to Hell for one confused night," Eleanor said, knocking Louis out of his enamoured mood, and making any 'I love you' he could muster toward her another lie. He rolled his eyes, not daring to answer her for he had seen how flustered and dramatic she could be when she was upset over something. He, instead, glanced over to a man in the table next to them, whose eyes were locked on the newspaper the Titanic printed with the extra luxory it had to show off. Louis saw nothing of importance, merely the date and small stories about what was going on in Europe and America.

April 14th, 1912. 

 

 

 


	10. I See the Iceberg in Your Eyes

Louis wandered beside his bride-to-be, her arm wrapped around his to assure he would have no chance of running away. She hadn't let him out of her sight since the morning- eating lunch, meeting with friends for tea, going back to the state room for some time to themselves, meeting with more friends for nothing more than useless gossip, and, finally, walking the deck on their way to a dinner party. Louis was sick of walking the deck, sick of the decor that had grown old after the many days on the ship, sick of the cold chill that ran through him with every short breath of wind, and sick of passing by the most familiar part of the deck to him and not finding Harry waiting for him. He understood Zayn and Liam had told him he was resting up in his room, recovering from spending his time in the freezing air after Louis failed to return to him the night before. But, that couldn't shove down his hopes for running into Harry at random and kissing the life out of him. 

Instead, here he was, Eleanor stopping every few seconds to speak with the 'friends' about whatever she desired to rattle off about. Louis kept hopelessly silent, not even bothering to give those across from him a proper greeting. He wasn't going to act as though his current situation was one he was happy with. Everyone around could know that he was upset with his fiance, and had looked much more chipper while running from an old family worker with a poor boy in tote. He had never loathed his life more than this moment, no matter how money was a gifted treat. The night air was chilling him, making his already numb soul colder, as if he were sitting in a freezing bath and just waiting to feel something. He was screaming louder than he ever had before, having a reason to scream, and just begging for someone to finally look up. Someone had to have a heart and soul, someone had to understand what it was like to actually be so hopelessly in love that you felt you were dying when that person wasn't at your side, someone had to look at him and see how terribly he wanted to cry and yet held it all in because he was already in enough trouble as it was. Someone had to look at him. One look was all it would take to see he was miserable, that money wasn't the equal to happiness. But, no one looked up. No one took a good enough look at him as they kept their eyes on Eleanor, who purposly distracted them away from her depressed fiance. 

They made it to the familiar Dinning Hall, grand staircase glowing with the surrounding orange lights as memory always served it had. Now, though, Louis found it looked dull and lifeless, meaningless and nothing more than the extra work put it by crew that spent their lives making the vessel. First Class roamed about the room, women all dolled in silk dresses, fur and pearls wrapped around their necks, gloves and hats gracing their heads as the usual. Men wore suits, black and white as they pushed and shoved into all the proper directions. This diner was famous, heard of day to day as being eleven courses, and these types of people were always willing to show off their extra weight if it meant also showing off their priviledge. 

Eleanor lead him as usual, dragging his body slightly behind her own as she sought out their normal table. Louis' parents sat there, others he didn't bother to recognize also gracing every seat but two placed uncomfortably close together. They each smiled when they caught sight of the seemingly happy couple, eyes bright though the time was growing late. Louis sat down, eyes cast downward even when those around him tried to catch his attention. Conversation began without him, as he expected. Why would anyone ask what was getting him? He understood his parents and Eleanor, they knew of the situation and simply ignored him because it was easier than a harsher argument. Everyone else needed a good deal of questioning. They had no care or empathy for those around them, getting together only so the isolation of emotions seemed much less. Gathering only because they had the endless hours of free time to spend doing nothing but gathering and fattening on too many plates of food. Who cared if one around you was being eaten alive as long as your pearls glistened on your neck?

The first course came: oysters, then the second: Cream of Barley, then the third: Poached Salmon with some sticky and dark, unknown sauce, then the forth: Saute of Chicken, then the fifth: Lamb with mint sauce,green peas, creamed carrots, with more sides of boiled rice and potatoes. Louis refused to eat. He would just let the waiter pick up his plates, eyes upset because he had allowed them to waste well prepared food. But, he didn't care. He would get by on sipping his water or wine and stare at the slow ticking clock. 11:25 pm. He had almost forgotten how much Eleanor he had received in one day, so much that the moon dangling in the night sky could be seen through the large open window above the hall, moon almost glistening in a straight angle above the ship. Everyone around him chatted, politics and bored conversations from all around buzzing over the gentle pull of violin strings. The music here was quite boring, Louis thought, compared to the Third Class' thump and screams and stomps. Everything here was quite boring in comparison, and Louis wondered why God had him born into a wealthy family if he would spend his life staring down at ravishing food and refusing to eat them even when the waiter insisted as Louis shoved them away like a child. 

He always found the clock, standing demonically over the angel statue at the widened end of the staircase, minutes ticking by so slow it was enough to make you insane. 11:38 pm. Hours into a blessed meal and he felt that stabbing his eyes with the various forks in front of him was the most preferrable of ideas. He didn't care about President Taft or how well the industrial business was booming over America. He didn't seem to care about anything, finally giving up on his hunger tantrum and scarfing down the cut of lamb within only a moment's time, enjoying the shocked faces of those around him. His throat became dry, the lamb covered in sauce still scraping his throat and sucking the moisture down with it. He reached for his wine, and found the most peculiar sight.

The liquid inside was quaking from the center, not a gentle slosh back and forth with the sway of a boat, but ripples shoving from the center and only stopping with the glass walls around the alcohol. The table around him shook as well, not going unnoticed by the distracted wealth around him, chandeliers above swayed dramatically, chains holding them to the ceiling threatening to let them go. He felt his feet vibrating beneath him as well, gentle shakes that someone moving might not notice. He wrapped his hand around the warmed wine glass, finding that it was indeed shaking to move around the cluttered table. Everything seemed to be moving all together, shifting with a random quake of earth. 

The gentle twitching stopped, everything stopping its momentum at once. People went right back to chatting, forgetting what had just occured faster than a toddler would have. Louis shook his head, setting his glass back on the table before excusing himself for some fresh air. His stomach was twisting in knots, curling into itself and sending a strange feeling through him. His gut yanked anxiety through his veins, and all he could think to do was go to deck and swallow any air he could.

When he arrived on deck, he found a strange sight. The captain and several ship officials were glancing over the side of the ship, eyes widening and faces going pale against the dark sky. Looking to each other with small nods, they pushed into the Captain's Quarters, Mr. Andrews following behind and disappearing with a panicked look shot to Louis when he was in the man's sight. When the men were gone, Louis caught a good look at the bow deck, distant and yet clearer than he had ever seen it. Ice, white and cut into jagged pieces, sat on the wood, cracking the floor and sending a shudder down his spine. He turned back, cursing himself for getting worried over nothing, and ready to head back into the Dinning Hall. Behind the ship, not floating too far away in the dark and seemingly endless pool of water, was an iceberg. It sat in the still water, no ripples coming from the base with the lack of wind shoving through the gentle form. His heart picked up speed, the iceberg standing like a monster, the chips on deck looking like nothing from their home. Something deep inside him twisted his lungs again, not allowing him to gasp for air.

"Sir," a crew member said, his face plastered with a feigned smile that sent another shock through Louis' arms, making him twitch with the flood of adreneline and fear, "The Captain has called for an emergency drill. May I suggest you gather something warmer to wear as you'll be spending some time on deck?" Louis nodded to the worker, crossing his arms and trying to convince himself it was nothing more than a nightmare. The pieces that were fitting together in his head were nothing more than coincidences, they weren't a puzzle too easy to solve. Louis' confused head was only playing horrid tricks on him, his nervous brain simply overworked and maybe a little mad, "Oh, and Sir," the officer continued, causing Louis to jump from his thoughts and focus on what was in front of him, "You will need this," he shoved something into Louis' arms before running off, spinting too quickly before walking into the Dinning Hall with another feigned smile, legs shaking beneath him under his seemingly calm walk. 

When the officer fully disappeared from Louis' view, he glanced down to whatever was placed in his arms. And he felt any breath he had left escape him. In his arms was a white mass, light and easily pressed into a flat line if he squeezed lightly with his fingertips. It was lined with buckled and holes and straps that could be tightened to fit the slimmest of bodies. It was a life vest. It was meant to help someone float. He would be heading toward the water. Something was so horrible that he would be heading deep into the water...

Louis kept a tight grip on his vest when he turned suddenly, running toward the Mr. Andrews that was just appearing from the private room with shaken eyes and a terribly false smile, "Why, young Louis. You must be freezing out here, go get something warmer on lad," he said, voice shaking and cracking.

"Mr. Andrews... I see that iceberg back there, and I see it in your eyes," Louis said bluntly, voice trembling as much as the elder before him. Mr. Andrews' face fell at that, smile dropping and walls falling to show a truly terrified man. He nodded, mumbling something once again about how nothing,  _nothing,_ got by Louis, "Please, tell me what's going on," Louis begged, placing a hand on the man's shoulder and shaking him gently in hope to get a reaction.

"The ship is going to go down, Louis," Mr. Andrews choked, voice sucking in on itself. Louis felt a lump form in his throat, and he was sure without it there he would have vomitted. His limbs shook again with the new flood of anxiety. Everything was a puzzle piece, and Louis had put it all together. Somewhere in his brain, he knew he had done so long before. He dropped his hand from Mr. Andrews' shoulder and allowed himself to slip into the darkness of fear, the depths of it swallowing him, "I already explained it to the Captain. An hour, maybe two," the man continued, making Louis' eyes fill with tears that stung his irises and made the lump in his throat grow against his dry throat. Louis nodded once as Mr. Andrews began to walk past him, head held down as Louis' was and going to tell more to get ready for the emergency drill, "and Louis," Mr. Andrews finally said, turning around before leaving, "Remember what you noticed about the lifeboats?" 

Louis remembered. He remembered all too well. Twenty lifeboats. 2,200 souls on board. Twenty boats. Only sixteen actually ready. Forty to sixty-five spots. Twenty. Lifeboats. 2,200 souls. Not enough boats. With a silent choke, Mr. Andrews left him, Louis' eyes burning into the wooden floor as tears threatened to fall, bile rising in his throat and finally coming out of his mouth when Louis' leaned over the railing and allowed in to fall into the water below. The ship was going down- sinking. This was the devine punishment described in the Bible that Louis had always been skeptical about. This was the very end of his line, something he had been wishing all night and yet was so terrified of. His body jerked with another push of vomit falling into the dark water. He wasn't in control of anything anymore, he had never imagined dying. Now, it all seemed so real. He felt fear digging into his sides and making his heart hammer against his ribs and make only the gentle pulse ring in his ears. He let the tears fall then, mind twitching and not able to think straight as he tasted acid in his throat and mouth, lungs stinging with the chill of the air. Then, with one jerk and a hard hand digging into his white lifevest, he shoved away from the railing and sprinted through the deck, memory training him how to get to the lowest decks. 

Harry. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took awhile. I've been busy these past two weeks, and I'll be busy this week as well. Don't think I dropped this project, I'm in love with it! Hope you enjoyed this chapter...or maybe don't 'cause of reasons- M.


	11. The Water is Freezing

Harry's eyes stared at the ceiling, off-white and shining like gold even though he was sleeping amongst rats. Liam sat in the top bunk across from him, chatting away to Zayn and Perrie who clumped together in the bunk below. Harry figured they were probably more focussed on kissing each other than whatever nonsense Liam was spewing, but he couldn't sit up to check. Everytime his muscles made the slightest twitch for sitting up, Zayn would shoot out of bed and place him right back down on his pillow. It had been this way when he woke some time in the middle of the day. All he could look at was the increasingly boring ceiling, not even able to find shapes against the white because it all had been too new.

He wondered how Louis was. He disappeared the night before, not that Harry should have just assumed he would return. His mind was black in all the spots that held the memory. He only remembered Louis kissing him...he hoped he could always remember that feeling. Louis' lips were warm against his own freezing ones, melting him into the deepest fires of Hell. The touch ignited flames in his core and spread it through his veins until he was left a mess of inferno that pricked his skin from the inside and made him feel pleasantly warm. He wouldn't mind if he was set into an unstoppable blaze if it meant Louis would kiss him through the whole event. With him, everything felt natural-  _right._ Harry could lose himself in thoughts of everything, every fiber of the world suddenly had an answer. The empty feeling in his heart that dug and dug deeper from the death of his parents was filled. It was almost over the brim, lapping over the sides and threatening to completely spill. Everything of himself was whole, wonderously perfected and moulded with magic into an emotion he could never explain to one who had never felt it. It was pure bliss even thinking about him. 

But, somewhere in that mess, Harry's memory could picture Zayn telling him to not move from the bed, to go back to sleep. He could remember Liam and Niall insisting he not go toward the deck at all today. He could remember Zayn telling him it was best to forget that Louis Tomlinson had ever been down in the Third Class that night. He stayed as they told him, not strong enough to put up a proper argument. He watched the sunlight that glimmered through the small porthole fade into darkness, and artificial light taking its place. A whole day without Louis. It hurt. His heart ached, burned, withered with every beat that he wasn't around. In a crowded room of lads and lasses, Harry felt utterly lonesome. He felt as though he had been locked in a closet for days on end, banging on the door, losing his sanity with every passing moment. Weeks would pass, and all Harry would know was the lonely. That's all he could understand now. The lack of affection, the lack of laughs and running across a crowded deck, lack of Louis. Nothing was right if Louis wasn't there. It hadn't been Harry's plan to get on the boat with anymore intention then to get to America and temp fate with spite. How was he to know he would slip on the wet surface and fall in love on his way down?

The lights of the room flickered into darkness, good nights being tossed around and snores being heard almost instantly. They expected Harry to continue sleeping when he had been doing just that and nothing more? The darkness made everything escape Harry's vision, the ceiling disappearing in the black and only allowing him to stare into nothing, eyes finding colourful sparkles that danced across his pupils with no direct course. His whole body was itching, acheing, stiff from the idea of not setting one foot to the ground in some hours. The darkness only made him realize how long he had been waiting, staring at nothing. Yet, with the dark in his mind, he had no idea of the time. He didn't know a second from an hour, leaving him confused about how long he had been in the dark, listening to nothing but the soft snores of others in the room. They sounded gentle, controlled, content, such peace making Harry find the drowsiness of boredom. Yawns overtook his brain and killed any other functions that didn't include sleep in their plans. 

He was in the drifting space, the open zone between sleep and awake, floating through the air and brain clinging by only a thread to the thoughts that would be changed to strange and uncontrolled dreams. He felt himself slipping, letting go of the hypothetical string keeping him attatched to the ship. Only to be broken by the harsh opening of their door and obnoxious turn on of the lights. His eyes shot open, purple and black spots forming from where the lights had struck his shocked eyes with an unwelcomed glow. A crewmember was there, dressed in his black trousers and white coat, stressed expression glued to his features as he stood in the doorway, reaching up to grab the unused life vests at the top of the small dresser at the front of the cabin.

"Life vests on, up on deck," was all he said before shutting the door and rushing to do the same with the next room. Harry sat up to see Liam and Niall sitting in the same bunk and rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. Perrie and Kendall sat up as well, Zayn somewhere in the bunk beneath him and stirring the bed to jerk side to side. A loud curse rang through the room when Niall leaped out of his top bunk, the gentle slap of water sounding slightly before. Harry glanced over the side, gasping at the sight of clear water sloshing through the room. 

After that moment, everyone rushed around the room, shoving shoes on their feet and coats over their shoulders. Harry followed their actions, placing his old brown boots over his feet and two, very thin, coats, blue and brown, over his body. The last thing he grabbed was the green blanket he had been gifted the night before. He placed it around him, wearing it as a hood to cover his curls and any fear he might have been showing. Liam assisted him in jumping away from the bed, steadying the younger boy for a moment while his legs forced themselves to remember how to walk without looking like a toddler.

Without another thought, Niall grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the cabin, Perrie and Kendall ushering out Zayn and Liam immediately after. Harry glanced back to see more water, higher in level and depth, down the hall. It glimmered in the light, freezing touch sending hopeless shudders from anyone who dared to touch it. Niall tugged Harry along, face stern as he shuffled to keep his hand in Perrie's, who clung to Zayn, and Zayn to Kendall, and Kendall to Liam. They pulled each other in a line, each one with a life vest but Niall and Harry, too many loaded into one room to allow a comforting number of white saviours. Harry felt his heart pick up speed when a large crowd formed ahead of them, screaming and cursing at nothing but a black gate, shaking and rattling from whoever in the front was letting his rage out from it. A crew member from First Class shouted back at the passengers, telling them to wait and be patient. Harry felt everything fall into place now that he was given the proper time to think. Niall rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand, realizing it as well, and suddenly uncomfortable with the lack of a puffy vest over their chests.

The ship was sinking.

"You bastard! Let us through! We 'ave wa'er comin' through!" a man with a heavy Irish accent shouted from the front of the crowd. He was screaming, red in the face and veins popping against his forehead. 

"We have to wait for proper orders, Sir. The First Class-" the crew member started, two other members appearing behind him and whispering something against the previous member's ear.

"I don't give a damn about the First Class!" Another man shouted, throwing his fists around and kicking a harsh foot against the swaying gate, clattering the metal together and signalling another loud cry from the crowd, all but Harry and Niall joining in the cheers.

"The Captain-" the second crew member attempted.

"For God's sake, man, we've got women and children down here!" Zayn shouted, holding up the hands of Perrie and Kendall as quick examples.

The crew just shook their heads, screaming at the crowd of their need to remain calm and stay silent. The crowd didn't dare listen, shouting louder and trying their hardest to get the keys out of the crew member's hands. The workers' each pulled out small guns, black and never used and Harry was certain they had been pre-loaded with six bullets, ready to make an example out of anyone who dared to check their authority. Harry twitched back, left foot landing in a wet puddle he didn't remember being so close the last time he had turned around. How had the water built up so swiftly? How long would the vessel stay afloat? What was going on? There were too many questions running through his head and too much panic running in his stuttering heart and everything was happening so fast he couldn't even tell if he was actually awake. Harry was afraid, shaking from both adrenaline and the sudden chill that shook up his spine through the blanket. 

"Harry," Niall suddenly said, turning around, usual smile not plastered to his face and only causing Harry to panic more, "Harry, you know what's going on here, yeah? And you know that we  _don't_ have lifevests, right? Harry. If those bastards shoot anyone of those of us standing right here, I want you to get to the body and rip the vest right off the fallen, we'll try to get one for you and me," Niall moved his hands back and forth to paint images in Harry's clouded mind.

"We can't just rip a ja-" 

"Listen to me! The water is freezing, you know that. You can't be in the cold, you  _know_ that. I'm not a strong enough swimmer to hold the both of us up, and we would only weigh Liam and Zayn down with us. You don't want to die, right?" Niall snapped, voice raising just below the volume of the entire crowd.

"But, Ni-"

"They don't need it if they are already dead! If they die, what's the use of a life vest? They would be glad to let us have them! They would want us to make it out alive- they're our mates, Harry! Just promise you'll take the vest off the first person you see shot..." Niall's voice slipped back into a whisper when Harry began to nod like a scared pup, "It'll all be fine,"

Harry nodded, whispering something about a promise and feeling tears prick at his eyes. He didn't even know when he felt like crying, but he noted that Niall's eyes were as glassy as his own. They both contained the same thoughts, eyes connecting in a silent hope that everything really would be alright. Yet, they both knew of their situation. They were men. Teenage boys. Poor filth. There were plenty of them in the world, and two missing wouldn't cause a fuss. They wouldn't get a boat, and not a vest to keep them floating in the freezing water that would yank at Harry's heart and beg to rip him under the waves. 

Reality seemed to sneak back on the two lads, shocking them out of their promises and sorrow. The crew members were shouting loud, screaming for someone to step back and head back to the deck, get on a boat. The crowd only watched, their chants and screams dying into a soft murmur over the shouting of the three workers and some young fellow from First Class. The young man simply screamed back at the workers, refusing to turn around and leave until the gate was opened. The crowd cheered with their approval, yanking against the bars and failing in obtaining the attention away from the peculiar First Class in the front. Harry felt his heart hitch up into his throat, yanking his hand away from Niall and feet pulling away from the increasing water levels and toward the black gate. The crowd spread for him, recognizing the faces and how they seemed to always show up together in pairs. He tripped the way up the small steps, nearly slamming into the bars with his twitching excitement running through him. Harry wrapped his hands around the bars, shaking them and joining in the crowd's desire for the guards to allow them freedom. The crew stopped fighting when the lad put two hands around Harry's own, their lips sealing together through one of the spaces in the bars, faces crushing into the cold metal and begging for more and more that the restricted space and time wouldn't give them. When Harry could finally feel the air entering into his lungs once more as he pulled away from the lad, choosing to stare into his eyes and finally let warm tears spill over his cheeks with a weak smile plastered against his face. The same warmth he had fallen in love with spread through him, making him forget about the treacherous danger that lurked behind.

"Darling, you're going to be alright," Louis shouted above the increasing volume of the crowd, placing his forehead to Harry's and rubbing his thumb over the pale cheek that was covered in tears. 

 


	12. Don't Start Saying Your Goodbyes

Louis mumbled words, meaningless whispers into Harry's hair as he tried to wipe the panicked expression off his lover's face. The crowd around them only screamed louder and louder, the water touching the heels of their wrecked shoes, and the crew members only threatening with their guns waved in the air. Some began to cry, some had already allowed their morale to slip, and they went back to the bar that was surely up to their knees in frozen death by now.

Harry hadn't a clue to where to hold his attention. He would look at Louis- not enjoying the way he looked worriedly back as though Harry were a frightened child. But, that's what he was. The water was a freezing sting, pricking pins into the flesh of anyone foolish enough to wade too long. All that separated him from the boy-man- in front of him, was a blasted gate that got in the way of so much. Every sound became white noise to Harry as his heart beat filled his ears, the idea of death seeming so foreign and tragic. The idea of his death not being the peaceful way he had dreamed was striking, a jab through the heart that allowed tears to spill over his eyes and down his cheeks. He didn't have the will to care if he cried in front of anyone anymore. He watched men walk to their sorrowful fate, he wondered if the gate would ever be opened at all, or if the guards simply fed them lies so they could save their ammo for some other brute who dared to step out of line.

"Harry, don't cry," Louis begged, trying desperately still to wipe away the tears that never stopped flowing. His voice was hitching to cover up the whine laced under his words, desperate to wipe the tragic expression off Harry's face, "Everything is going to be fine, all of it. These men only have the orders to allow the First Class to get off first...and the moment they're done with we'll both catch the first boat we can and be on our way! Doesn't that sound darling? Yeah?" Louis feigned a smile, corners of his mouth twitching with the lies he used as false comfort. He could feel the terror Harry was feeling, the lack of security brimming in him and breaking his calm nature piece by piece, shards of dreams already crashing to the floor. If the guards hadn't begun screaming at the top of their lungs, Louis would have missed the amazing sight behind his weeping lad. Kendall and Perrie had been pulling on a bench welded to the metal walls. Another woman, one Louis faintly remembered having the name of Jade, a woman who shockingly beat Liam out of a drinking contest in his first night with the lower class, was by their side. The ship creaked with the ripping of the ship, everyone gathering to rip the bench away. With an ear splitting scratch, the bench came loose and toppled a few over their own feet. Louis grabbed Harry's hands as tightly as he could for a moment before stepping back, understanding every moment of what was about to come.

The bench slammed against the gate once, sending a wavering shake of metal against metal through the empty halls. When the group pulled back to attempt once more, gun shots rang out. Louis was certain they had to be only warning shots, but Niall leaning over the body of some poor man and taking the vest right off him let him know the warning shot was meant straight through the head. Nevertheless, the bench rammed forward into the gate again, sending the bolted metal flying to the floor, scratching anything it could along the way. As if it hadn't been a life saving tool, the stack of wood was thrown to the side as people crammed through the thin door against the guard's orders. Harry stumbled forward, tripping over one of the open spaces in the fallen gate and landing in a half hug, half support grip from Louis. Louis pushed him back to his feet, embracing as much of him as he could. The slow world was set right, time ticking the way it was meant to, the water could stop rising now- and Louis desperatly wished that it would. As much as he wanted to stand with Harry in a warm grip, shivering with the rush of fear in his veins, the rising water levels only prompted him to pull away and tug Harry to the highest decks, finding Kendall's open hand to link the two of them to the rest of the loyal group.

Running was terrible, full of tripping and crowds often falling trampling over an innocent soul. Harry hadn't counted how many fell before they reached the open deck, he just remembered the crowd being a lot larger, and much wilder. The top deck was not as wrecked a mess as any of the previous runners had exprected, crew men ushering women and children away from their fathers and husbands to load them into boats. The band played light hearted music over the waves and creaking of mechanics as the ropes were cut and dropped into the water with a delicate splash. It all seemed ironic.

"Women and children first," Harry mumbled, allowing only Louis to hear. Louis felt his blood run cold. He hadn't thought far enough to know how he and Harry would get a boat being men of their age. If he were with Eleanor, they would surely allow the "happy" couple to live together, sharing a tight seat on a rickety boat. But, Harry would be left somewhere, left to die, left to live, left for nothing. So, he only shook his head and allowed himself to be yanked through the crowd by the tight grip of Kendall's fingers against his. He watched crew members lower themselves into the boats with the escaped passengers, most likely thanking God himself for the positon of power they were placed in with the sudden disappearence of the Captain. Louis' eyes scanned every boat, watching as they were slowly being filled, the pace not quick enough to fit even a third of the lives on in time. Anger bubbled from the core of him, but he decided the calm of the boat was only a delusion that would quickly be denied, and chaos would give him the time to let out his rage. He had to be strong. He had to be brave. He had to be a man and figure out the way to escape the Hell-hole he was dealt. He had to be so much that he wasn't because the boy trailing behind him, the one with the death grip on his hand, couldn't be those things at the moment. 

A sudden roar of screaming broke through as chaos came sooner than Louis believed. Screams of women echoed from somewhere below the ship, lingering along the side. Zayn rushed the group to the edge, catching a quick glimpse of a lifeboat leaning downward more on the right than the left. If this was what the whole ship seemed to stop for, fussing their precious time over, Louis hoped death would at least be kind to him. Four other workers rushed to the aid in leading the two crew men who stood on either side of the boat to lower the vessel without doing any more harm than was already done. With the excitement suddenly started, people seemed to become aware that, yes, the boat was indeed drifting deeper and deeper into the unknown waters below, ready to suck down an lives with it. The screams didn't die down after that, only came from all directions, and from hundreds of unknown watchers. People broke into sprints, the sudden arrival of the Third Class sparking more panic in the upper classes. People made mad dashes for the boats, putting their feet up to the edges and trying to hoist their body weight over with one lucky push. Most were pushed back to the floor, making their only attempt useless, and snapping whatever sense they left behind back into them. Others managed to fling themselves over the edge like ragdolls, screaming bloody Hell on the way down, followed by a sharp smack of disturbed waves. Those who watched were left to be knocked around in the chaos, groups ripped apart and souls fluttering with anxiety. Louis remembered the sharp feeling of discomfort when Kendall's hand was ripped away from his, and the worry when he looked out into the growing crowd to find that she and the others were no where near. Moments later, a hand wrapped in Louis' free one, and he turned to see a trembling Niall, who was swallowing desperatly as if to control himself in the face of fear. Their comfort group had been ripped apart at the seams. 

"Get back!" workers shouted, guns firing into the sky to get the crowd's attention once more. Puffs of smoke lingered in the night air, drifting away with the wind as Harry and Louis' breath had the very first night they met. While all eyes were trained to the sky, a distress signal shot into the air. It looked lovely as it floated through the empty space with a white light, the sound of sparks causing the havoc to seem as nothing more than a dream. Harry found himself mesmerized over the sight, not squinting when it let out a final blow into the stars. The bright light that came with the shooting light drifted away with the tiny embers that trailed into the sea. The light seemed like hope. Everyone was calling out with that light, their voices echoing into the burning flames and shouting with the final pop for whoever was near to come and play guardian angel. But, the hope faded fast when no ship seemed to suddenly appear over the horizon, ripping apart the shadows of midnight with a lovely light of Heaven. The hope, instead, drifted away with the now faded embers, trickling away as any other giddied emotion seemed to do when the water crept another step up the walk.

"Louis," Harry choked out, eyes still cast to the emptied sky. Niall busied himself with looking around for Zayn as if he were a lost child, allowing Louis to glance over at Harry with the softest of looks he could allow himself to deliver, "I love you,"

"No, Harry, no, no, no, no, no," Louis rushed out, shaking his hand around Harry's waist and pulling him as close as he could without letting go of Niall, "Don't you do that, don't you dare start saying your goodbyes'" He sealed the end of the conversation, or the pause of it, with his lips on Harry's. They were panicked, rushed, not meant to be slow and kind, as far too much emotion had to be stacked into such a small interval of time, "Listen to me, we're going to be fine," Louis said almost as soon as he pulled away from his intimate action, "We're going to be on our way to America when some other ship spots our little light show. America, Harry. America," He watched Harry smile gently from the mention of a dream, a faint bubble of hope building inside him, and a spot of guilt stabbing Louis for the knowledge he could be lying.

A boat rocked back and forth on its sides, the rope swaying with the sudden motion of passengers begging to throw themselves into it. Shots rang again, this time out into the crowd to make an example. The world stopped. It froze as the body went limp in Louis' arms. The sudden weight made the three boys each crash to their knees in a topple against the floor. People around them screamed, the light trickle of blood not going unnoticed by anyone. Someone too close to him screamed in horror, tears already leaking from their eyes. Louis sat up and looked at his hand, raising it to find blood smeared against every inch, pink and red dancing against white in a horrific design. The crew member responsible looked shocked at his own actions, gasping and dropping the gun without a care as to who might pick it up after. Louis took notice that Harry and Niall were in a heap on the floor, both at a close distance, screaming as other Third Class slowly moved to cuss out the guard. The world seemed to slow, and a ringing in his ear took over any sound as he watch in silence as Niall's hunched over form collapsed to the floor with a splat of red liquid, earning a muffled cry from Harry against the ringing in Louis' ears.

"H-Harry-" Niall coughed, blood sputtering out of the corners of his mouth. Harry's hands were pressed down firmly over Niall's chest, the pure white of the life vest being stained with red paint that seemed to appear from no where, "It...h-hurts," Niall wheezed, sucking in breaths that seemed to give him no power. The usually happy boy's voice was shattered, hoarse and barely above a soft murmur. He was staring up to Harry was a strange look in his eyes, one of fear but also of love. 

Harry removed his hands from Niall's chest to show the gaping bullet wound over the left side of his chest, bleeding terribly and chest heaving without a proper gulp of air, "It'll be alright, Niall, yeah?" Harry breathed, shoving his hand back over the wound and adding more pressure than before. Niall heaved at this, the sounds following after sounding something like sobs, "I-..I'm sorry. Come on, then, I know- I know it hurts, but you'll be fine. I'm so- I'm sorry , Niall," Harry panicked, Harry wasn't crying as Louis had expected, his eyes were only glassy with held back tears. He looked at his friend on the floor with a smile each time he spoke, though his shaking lips made it difficult to muster.

Niall looked somewhere passed Harry, up toward the sky but not far out enough to actually be looking at anything, "T-," he started, coughing and taking a few seconds of silence to gather his voice, "Take the vest," he managed without stuttering. Harry stopped smiling then, only for a second, before his false joy returned and he shook his head with a lack of understanding, "T-take my l-life vest," he spoke again. Niall sounded so distant, so out of reality and yet contorted his face with so much pain that neither lad could lie to himself enough to convince themselves of a dream. The blonde boy's lips twitched into a soft smile, a shaking hand raising to his chest to grab one of Harry's away from his wound. The boys easily locked their hands together through sense memory, "Take m-"

"No!" Harry shouted, smile finally gone, "No, you said- you said only to take it if someone was shot! You said only to take it if someone didn't need it anymore!"

"I-..." Niall smiled, chest heaving up and down in tremors as he tried to gather enough breath to actually speak, and let out a half hearted laugh, "I am sh-shot," his smile faded, only to return as he squeezed harder into Harry's palm, "I'm shot-t," he stated again, eyebrows raising and a tear rolling down his face as if he were stating the situation so easily, "Y-you heard what I s-said? I said: If someone w-was....was shot, you take their vest. Th-they don't need- need it," Niall's sentences were being broken up to add space for his hissing breaths and heart breaking whimpers, "They wo-would want you to ha-have it," 

"But, you're going to be fine, Niall! I can-" Harry was shouting, shaking his head but not allowing any tears to fall as he squeezed harsh into Niall's hand with both of his own, forgetting about the still bleeding wound.

"I w-want you to have it, m-mate," Niall twitched up a genuine looking smile for a moment, followed by another whimper, "S-sorry I got it- got it a little dirty 'fore you c-could use it," his blue eyes flickered down to the red seeping around the white vest, "L-Lou-is," Niall groaned, catching Louis' attention, "T-take care of h-him, he- he's my bab-baby boy, after a-all," he chuckled for two beats of a second, earning a frantic nod from Louis who could barely see through the tears he was fighting back, "T-take the vest, p-ple..please," Niall's last sentence was more of a scream out, his chest heaving and more blood sputtering from his mouth only to be washed away by hot tears. He still picked up his smile right where he left off though, staring into Harry's eyes with love and admiration, as if he were scanning over a memory book. Harry nodded hopelessly, a tear finally falling down his cheek as Niall open his mouth, but promply closed it and chose to just smile instead. Tears flowed from his blue eyes like a river, wiping the blood away from his mouth that was formed in a pathetic, sloppy smile that was only there for looks against the pain, "H-H-Har-Harr-y," Niall stuttered out, prompting Harry to lean in closer to hear what he best mate was saying.

But all was silent.

Harry pulled away from Niall's body, scanning over it frantically with his eyes as Niall was staring into nothing, the final glint of life no longer there. The curly haired boy shook his friend, gently at first as if to wake up a sleeping baby, then harder when the action ushered no response. All the while calling out 'Niall' at different volumes as if he expected some answer. Tears were pouring uncontrolably out of Harry now as he shook the lifeless corpse against the wood.

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry, earning a tantrum from the other boy as he shook around and tried to fight out of the older boy's grip, "Niall!" Harry continued shouting, kicking his legs as Louis dragged his a far enough distance from the body, before tripping over his own two feet and landing on his bum. Harry was breaking down, crying non stop but no longer kicking or fighting to get away from Louis. The younger boy accepted it, somewhere deep down, and turned around in a frantic embrace with Louis, burying his face into Louis' chest to continue his sobs. Louis rested his chin atop Harry's curls, rocking him back and forth and watching the blonde body on the floor be stomped over without care by people loading into the boat. Louis stared at Niall's stained vest, a hole visible and disturbed with mental trauma. 'Take care of him' echoed against the walls of his skull, making his head throb as he held back tears and Harry continued sobbing into his shirt. So, keeping Harry at a close distance yet still pushing him away slighty, Louis wiggled out of his buoyancy vest and snapped it around Harry.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorrysorrysorrysorry.-M.


	13. You Jump, I Jump, Remember?

There wasn't enough time in the turmoil to sit and comfort Harry for the hours he would need. Louis kept their hands tightly entwined, a form of comfort all its own, as he pulled the younger boy through the ever shrinking crowd. Louis didn't understand why the crowd would shrink in the numbers that they did, or why sudden calm had come over the ship despite the gun shots, but he would learn through the passing words of others that the First Class had gone inside for they were growing cold and calm was just a natural pass of way. Women were entering the boats one by one, cluching their children back into their arms as soon as they were situated. Men kissed their lovers and children goodbye, wishing them well and allowing the life boats to carry them to safety. A type of safety they knew they would never have. 

For a moment, if only one, Louis wished for Harry to become a lady. He could carry her into one of the boats and get her to safety like the other men did with those they loved so much. They could kiss a swift goodbye before she would be lowered down, possibly crying at the knowledge Louis might not make it out; but she would be safe. The guards and everyone around would work to protect her so Louis wouldn't have to risk the chance of possibly failing. But, Harry wasn't a lady. He was in the same situation as Louis, and he could do nothing to change that. No one but him would protect Harry, and if anything were to go wrong, he would have no one else but himself to blame. If he could only get Harry on one of those boats, safe and maybe crying, he would be content with just watching the boat suck him under. He would be happy as Harry stared back up to him with the longing of touch and comfort. He would be content with the heart broken look on his Harry's face because he would be safe.

He shook the thought away from him. There was no use in dancing with imagination at this time. Harry was clinging to him, the grip on his hand nearly bone shattering, he was sticking as close to Louis as possible. Harry was using Louis for support, for strength, and that's what Louis needed to be as of now. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Harry's palm, occasionally turning to check on him or say the sweetest nothing he could muster in the panic. The crowd was a rustle of men saying goodbye to women, and finding the others in such a crowd was sure to be nothing but a mess. Louis stopped shoving his way through the mess and pulled he and Harry to the side, so their backs were touching the icy walls of the ship. There was no use in wasting energy in fleeting panic. Harry was still crying, barely capable of breathing normally, looking so wrecked Louis wondered if he was moments away from having his own heart stop.

"Harry," Louis cooed, keeping his voice soft and sweet. He began fixing the blanket that was draped over Harry's head like a wedding veil, placing over Harry at a proper angle to keep him as warm as possible in the freezing weather. Louis' own breath escaped him, his words slipping somewhere into the land of dreams, and he found himself lost in the wonder that was Harry. He was fragile now, only adding the feminine features Louis had originally claimed his attraction to him was. He was pale as a porcelain doll, skin soft like devine silk. His glassy eyes reflected the twinkle of lights around them, igniting a green fury that was certainly nothing but fantasy. The stars danced inside them and filled them with electric sparks that fluttered everywhere. His lips and cheeks were a pink colour, light and enchanting over his already gorgeous features. The dark blanket over his head only made Louis find new hope in every glance. Even if the blessing of marriage would never be on them, he would be with his beauty for the rest of his life; until the day his heart stopped beating. He brushed his hands over Harry's cheeks, marveling in the stinging cold touch that only made them softer and more inviting to hold. Harry finally met Louis' eyes, striking Louis with a pang in his chest that he recognized as the ever famous 'skip of a heartbeat'. He had never felt so spellbound by another person, only Harry made his breath vanish and his heart give up trying. Words couldn't describe the throbbing in Louis' heart at even the mention of his name. Words couldn't define love better than actions could show. Instead of going on with whatever words he had planned to comfort Harry with, he placed their lips together instead. He felt another pang in his heart as Harry pulled at Louis' shirt to keep him close, keeping the white fabric tight in two fists to ensure Louis wouldn't vanish. Their lips moved together with different meaning. It wasn't arousing, it wasn't anything more than pure passion and love loaded into one touch. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, enjoying how their bodies fit together as if placed into a puzzle. It was all lovely, everything. 

When Louis finally pulled away, he could hear Harry's last ounce of breath escape him. The curly boy's eyes fluttered open as if just awakened from a long slumber, and the green orbs once again found Louis' lesser irises in a mesmerized haze. Louis smiled, enamoured, in love, living in the sight before him, and swearing that he would see it over and over again past this tragic night. Louis sucked in a breath, realizing he needed to say something, and choosing a simple, "I love you," and enjoying the excited expression of Harry at his tender words.

It was then that Louis noticed the strange difference in height in the placement of his feet. His right foot was leaning farther down than his left, making it so his balance had to be kept with the strength of his muscles. He kept his hands on Harry's waist even as he glanced down to see that, yes, the ship was tilting downwards. He glanced up to see if any passenger behind them had taken notice of the change in degree, but every First and Second Class aboard were slowly loading in lifeboats or sipping at whatever alcohol had been delivered to them. No one seemed to take notice that the ship was tilting upward. Louis also took notice that no Third Class but the small group of them that had already broken through with them, were aboard the top deck. It begged the question that the majority of those below hadn't a clue that there was already an opening for them to escape. That type of chaos would ignite the panic needed for what Louis had seen of the ice sitting on deck. It would let the passengers know that the ship's damange wasn't minimal, but a fatal issue. It seemed as though passengers had the belief that everyone would be able to make it off the ship despite the ticking time and lack of supplies. Without panicked people running from below deck, no one would be able to tell the difference between a drill and a tragedy.

"Louis?" Harry asked, ginger tone gracing through the inner turmoil. He sounded concerned, voice wavering as he scanned over Louis' concerned face.

"Oh, no, no, nothing, love," Louis smirked, strengthening the grip around Harry's waist and composing the calm back into himself, "How about we try getting a lifeboat, yeah?" Harry's face changed, shock washing over his features and asking silent questions that Louis ignored as he pulled them away from a wall and toward the calm crowd of people. Harry allowed himself to be pulled along with no complaints. Louis thought getting a boat at this time wouldn't be very difficult, considering that boats were going down slowly and many didn't even seem interested in what was going on around them. It was then that Louis took notice of a First Class boat, each woman with a bag at their sides from the lack of want to cast it away. The boat was nearly empty, no children taking up space and the wooden planks only being filled with women and other crew members. With a slow sigh, Louis patted against his pocket, small bundles of money slapping together in the fabric.

Keeping as calm as he could, Louis began walking toward the boat the First Class women were choosing. Harry took notice of Louis' line of sight, and stuck close behind his back to hide away from the women who he was certain loathed him. Louis felt his hope finally rise to a peak. The boats were being loaded calmly, and nothing would get in the way of he and Harry's marvelous escape from death. But, the sudden screams of people changed his hopes. Third Class began running up from their quiet hulls, screaming about the water and the boat sinking, sparking a slowly rising chaos as they begged to leap into boats and upper classes caught winds of the panic. People dropped their drinks and began to panic into boats, First Class women looking thankful for their money. Louis sprinted forward, pulling Harry along with him and rushing to the crowd that now surrounded the once peaceful looking life boat that was now blocked by a rush of unknown people.

The panic would seem like a perfect chance to leap into the boat without being caught, but found that various classes of men were being pushed to the ground and having a gun pointed at their fallen forms. The uniformed man in charge wouldn't allow just anyone to get on in the chaos, standing with his arms crossed and a stern face and gun hidden. Other crew members chose women out of the group, casting the one throwing tantrums aside and into the crying arms of their husbands. Louis checked side to side, shoving passed people who were starting to fight one another, he grabbed onto one of the guard's arms with a stumble, tugging on it to get his attention. As the man began chiding him for his actions, Louis caught sight of the boat, slowly filling up and running out of space with the amount of workers also filling up the seats. The man pulled Louis' attention back to him, his face going red from the anger, but Louis was too lost in his own thoughts to listen. Only First Class women and crew members were on that boat, and his hope that both of them would be allowed on were diminished, "Put this boy on that boat," Louis demanded, stopping the man in mid-sentence.

"Women and children only," the man spat, yanking his arm out of Louis' grasp and, in metaphor, his hope.

"Please, that boat had plenty of room and he won't throw a fuss like half the-" Louis started, pulling Harry closer to him and using his free hand to motion up and down his body. The man raised an eyebrow, seeming to ponder for a minute as he scanned over Harry's form, before rolling his eyes and turning away with a childish huff. Louis smacked his hand against his pocket, feeling the money rattle gently within the fabric. If this was truly their last night on the ship, this would be all he and Harry would have when they arrived in America. But, the man's opinion didn't seem to sway and Louis' patience was running short. He reached into his pocket, feeling some of the fibers rip with the force as he wrapped his hand around one wad of money. He shoved it into the man's hand, watching as his expression changed with a sudden interest in taking the boy on the boat. The man smirked at Louis, motioning with his hand to give him more, to which Louis was more hesitant. 

He glanced at Harry, seeing that the younger boy was distracted with an ever present fear of the ship, looking like a beaten puppy. With less power than before, Louis reached into his pocket and shoved another pile of money into the man's hands, earning a pleased sound from him, "Now, please,  _please,_ let him on the boat," Louis pleaded, voice sounding broken and almost whined. The man eyed down to Louis' pockets, straining to see if there was any more money he could use to bleed the boy dry. Louis felt tears form in his eyes as he reached into his pocket one last time, almost throwing the man the last of his money with the beginning of an emotional tantrum starting. Louis felt his voice break as he pulled on Harry's hand, "Now, let him on board," his voice broke on the last word, making the man finally look up from his money counting and stare at Louis' face for the first time, "Th-This is all I have! His life is worth all the money in the world, and if you people want to die with some sort of good to your name, I suggest you take him!" Louis screamed, voice loud enough to cover the wavering inflections as his throat closed up. He was holding back tears: because he was a man and they never cried in public, no matter how tragic.

"Let him on," the man pushed out, low and hoarse, but loud enough for a crew member next to him to nod. He held out a hand to reach for Harry's, to which Louis welcomed. Harry was shocked out of his thoughts were Louis placed his hand in someone else's, and he was being tugged toward the life boat without Louis in tote.

"Lou?" Harry spun around, shocked to see Louis simply placing his hands behind his back, "C-Come on," Harry sounded so hopeful, his eyes finally dry though red, and his smile lighted again. Louis bit down on his bottom lip, feeling his heart break at the lost and, yet, still hopeful look Harry never let faulter.

"Get on the boat, love," Louis stated, nodding toward the boat and ushering the crew member to pull him a little harder. Harry opened his mouth with a fuss, throwing the tantrum Louis promised he wouldn't. 'I don't want to', 'No', 'Not without you', was all the air was filled with, and Louis feared the crew men would give up on the idea of letting the curly boy on, "Harry," Louis smiled, kissing his cheek and relaxing his fear enough to silence him, "I'll be fine, trust me. I want you safe, I want you warm, and this way you will be," Harry nodded at the words, face still scrunched with protest, "I can grab another boat, but they're going to take you on this one. And, after a good night of sleep, we'll meet again tomorrow," Louis placed a quick kiss to Harry's forehead before the younger boy nodded and allowed the crew member to sit him down in a seat still close to Louis. Louis leaned over the side, pushing up on his toes to reach over the railing, and placed his lips to Harry's with a smile on his face. Then the boat was lowered down.

Louis stayed at the railing, folding his now empty hands in each other's, watching as Harry's eyes stayed trained up at him as the shouting of crew men sounded and the boat scretched toward the water. Louis felt his chest squeeze at being separated and the distant between the two only increased. He shook his head as he thought about the empty space in his pocket, and how, for once, money had given him a happiness he had never had from it before. Money was truly a treat, Louis remembered.

Harry's eyes caught the bow of the ship, sinking up to the portholes with water. He felt himself panic internally, and possibly externally as the First and Second Class around him stared at him like an unknown parasite. Harry changed his panic into looking up at Louis, eyes fond as he leaned over the side to stare at Harry for as long as possible. A bustle of people raced behind him, others leaned on the edge next to him, but Harry found only Louis was important enough to stare at. Another flare went off behind him, sparkling a light behind his lover to make him look as equal to a fading angel. This boat was nothing more than a horrid separation, a last goodbye. The flare sparkled down in embers around Louis' ever fading image, making it so his light smile looked almost as if it were produced from imagination. That last bit of affection seemed to be no different then a silent saying of last words. Louis was leaving, and he might not make it out of whatever horror was happening near the front of the ship. Harry imagined his future. He could see Liam and Zayn, Kendall and Perrie, all four smiling at him and treating his body with kindness. Niall and Louis were no where to be seen,  lost somewhere in the air and Heavens. 'I love you' Harry thought, eyes piercing up into the image of his Louis, looking far too happy for the situation, 'I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, Louis'.

"Good on you leaving your 'lover' behind," an unknown woman said somewhere next to Harry, full of hate from the performance the boys had shared before. He didn't recognize the voice, and hadn't the wish or need to see the lady's harsh face as she shoved the insult into his heart. Harry felt tears finally spilling over as Louis was becoming smaller and smaller in his vision, the knowledge that the front of the ship was sinking sparking flutters of fear and panic. 

Around then came a beakon of hope. A new deck, a small opening. There were people standing in his way, but Harry didn't care. He rushed to the side of his lifeboat, breath hitching as people screamed for him to sit down. The boat rocked side to side as Harry brought a good portion of the weight to follow where he went. People sitting on the open spot of deck looked shocked as Harry's idea entered into their brains, and they rushed to the side begging for Harry to stay where he was. Harry shook his head, unable to think clearly, emotional breakdown still lasting from Niall. He couldn't lose Louis, too. He couldn't leave Louis behind when Harry could see his future sinking into the water. With a sudden surge of courage, Harry leaped forward and out of the boat, barely gripping onto the Titanic's side railing, and nearly falling into the horrid water. A blood curtailing scream came from Louis above, a scream of 'HARRY' echoing through the already loud air. Harry continued pushing through any fear as he shoved his body over the railing, one hand saving the blanket from falling below and becoming useless to the easily freezing lad. Two men assisted Harry over the rest of the way, pulling his body over and screaming at him in harsh chides. The lifeboat continued downward, forgetting Harry had ever been there. 

Louis finished his screaming before he turned and darted to the lower decks, shoving people aside and panting out Harry's name. He found the lower deck's Holy spot, where a very dazed Harry was still being screamed at by those around him. Louis shoved the others out of the way and pulled Harry into a tight embrace with a choked back sob, "You're such an idiot, Harry," Louis scolded, placing his lips quickly to Harry's, "You're so stupid," he spoke again, placing his lips back to Harry's, "Why would you do that, huh?" he took Harry's face in his hands before placing his lips wherever he could get to first, "Why?!" he placed his lips back to Harry's quickly before pulling away to look at the precious, shaking doll in front of him.

"I couldn't- I-..sorry..I-I," Harry choked, tears getting stuck in his throat and making his sentences have no designed aspect. Louis shook it off and kissed Harry again, doing his best to get as much of the idiot as he could, "I-..," Harry choked out, cupping his hands around the back of Louis' neck to keep the distance between them close, "Y-you jump, I jump, remember?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't not include that last lifeboat jumping scene. It was important that that was included.  
> I also feel bad and like I should make a point of this. I do not, have not, and will never hate Eleanor. She's lovely and gorgeous and her character choice in these stories will vary on how I need her. But, I adore her nonetheless!- M.


	14. Nearer My God to Thee

Louis had never known the beauty that was being hugged so tight that he could feel the air being pressed out of his lungs. He had never known what it was to hold his own world in his arms, so fragile and yet so willing to be stronger. He feared one tight squeeze of his muscles, and the blessed precious he was wrapped around would vanish away into nothingness. And yet, here he stood with people pushing passed them every few moments, the gentle plucking of music that had been playing on deck for some time, the utter chaos of a ship sinking down into the unknown sea- with waters ready to kill-, against all odds he was here with Harry. They had stood there for their own, private eternity, crying and shaking and just begging for it all to be a nightmare when they had opened their eyes. The pepped tune of the orchestra only added to the strange irony of their terrible hole.

The feather-haired brunette finally pushed away from Harry, arms still wrapped around his waist, but loosening his grip just enough to allow him to get a good glance at his shaken lover. They hadn't the time to stand and stall for the water to catch up to them, though Louis was willing to die with Harry by his side if the time absolutely came tonight. The two of them might find better peace of mind, floating in the water, stinging chill stabbing through them like knives would never hit as deep as the glares and crimes if they were to live together. Floating together, hand in hand, only to possibly to rise to the surface where someone would find them one day, and wonder of their story and their lost souls. A story untold.

He shook the thoughts away from him, Heaven wouldn't be so kind as to allow them in if they only gave up to get there. So, Louis finally nodded his head once to Harry, and entwined their hands together, where they should properly be, and the two walked side by side in hope to find a solution. They walked by the water slicked railing, staring at the lifeboat that was being slowly loaded, and only being mere watchmen as men were separated from everything they had loved and anything they had left. While Harry stared at the horrid sight in front of him, the sorrow washing through the ship's decks to make nothing seem worthwhile, Louis turned to see the lifeboat Harry had previously occupied. It floated daintly at sea, rising and falling with the push and pull of small waves, and crewmen working hard to row through the dense waters. The boat wasn't but twelve people full. There was a much risen amount of personel in this boat than in the others, a conspiracy Louis would glady testify to, but that wasn't what caught his attention. In the floating wood, stood a girl looking his way as well. Eleanor. She looked shocked, concerned, horrified, already wearing a look of grief in Louis' direction. She looked as though she wanted to stand, but the crewman next to her seemed to inform her of the horror in the idea. She simply stared, eyes so wet Louis could even tell from this distance that she was crying. She kept her hands wrung into one another, up against where her heart would be, shaking against the cold and the anxiety.

She turned to his mother, who seemed much less interested in him than Eleanor herself was. Her beautiful face, painted expression of emotionless calm, finally melted into a fit of horrid tears. She was moving her mouth to say something, looking as though she could be screaming, but the waves and the roar of the crowd only took away the cries into the air, where they would remain lost forever. She seemed as though she would die any moment, shock eating away at her core. Louis felt the lump in his throat grow strong, and yet he felt relieved. She had made it out. She was alive. She was going to live on through the tragedy where he was already sure hundreds had lost their lives in the freezing ocean. She was safe. He smiled despite himself, lifting one hand to his mouth before blowing out a kiss to the open breeze. She looked shocked, eyes wide and lip quivering as she watched. Only one moment past after that before Eleanor was reaching into the air, wrapping her hands into closed fists around nothing, and bringing them back down toward her face. She looked up at Louis with girlish hesitance that could be described as nothing more than charming. Her eyes flickered behind Louis for only a moment, toward Harry he was sure, and her closed hand opened. He believed she would bring the open palm to her lips, where they had connected so many time before, but she instead brought it to her cheek, holding it there for a long moment before letting out a shaking breath and sending a kiss back Louis' way. Two, actually. One for Louis, and one for Harry. Then, with a loud scream sounding off some where from the distance, Louis looked away from her.

Louis couldn't tell much of anything from where he was standing, and he wasn't planning on running blindly into a rallied crowd just to see why some people were screaming. But, Harry wreched his hand away from Louis' and ran toward the crowd, causing Louis no other choice to go after him for fear the two would be separated. He followed Harry as they pushed through people in the crowds, all staring and screaming at the sight they were being dealt. It was the loading place of lifeboats, the average placement. One was being gently lowered down toward the water, ready to be gifted safety and freedom. Louis wondered why in the world anyone would be screaming when they were so close to escaping.

"God all mighty," Harry breathed out, eyes wide as he clamped a hand over his mouth. Below the descending lifeboat was another, an identical copy, every passenger screaming and crying and begging for the one above to stop being lowered. Those inside would surely be crushed if the boat above didn't stop moving. The lifeboat already floating in the water had crewmen already working hard to sever the boat away from the thick ropes that held them there. There wasn't a passenger who didn't look up to the still lowering lifeboat above and wonder what was going to happen next. There were at least seventy people aboard the thing, and their lights would be snuffed out in only a moment's notice.

Nearly too late, the crewmen separated themselves from the sinking ship, and began shoving their oars through the water and away from the now stilling lifeboat. The crowd let out a breath at one time, still shaking until the both boats were finally out of harm's way. The crew was getting careless, and it would only be a matter of time before there were no longer any lifeboats and those left onboard could do nothing but wait for salvation in the waters below. Louis know this. He remembered Mr. Andrews explaining that his design was shattered, looks taking hold over safety in the time that it was needed most. Every piece had fit together so carefully, and Louis was out of time to make everything work his way. The lifeboats were being loaded hastily, sent down into the water even if they were half filled with the liquid. Did it matter anyway? How many would really make it out when they would soon have nothing but wet metal to cling to for hope? Humanity was beginning to faulter, and morals wouldn't matter soon to even the eyes of God. What had they done? What had anyone on this ship done to deserve the wrath? Did anyone here deserve death? They may corrupted, greedy, theiving, grungie humans...Louis had been all around the ship and had seen the worst of everyone on it, and he could preach that no one, not even the lowest man of business, deserved the fate he was going to receive. 

Things were falling apart at the seams. In the distance, Harry swore on his grave that he saw Niall's corpse floating through the water, body buoyant enough to float for mere moments before it was dragged under. He was gone forever. Zayn, Liam, Perrie, and Kendall were no where to be seen and everything around him was falling apart. Bodies were floating, already drowned and forgotten in panic, or they began moving and swimming toward the unfilled lifeboats that would only kick them back into the water with heartless finess. It was in that moment that he finally realized how serious the situation around him was becoming. His feet stood on two different planes, both knees bent to keep up the balance, his shoes slipping against the polished floor with the lack of proper traction. The ship wasn't at the meant-to-be horizontal line. The ship was tilting. All his visions began to make sense. The bow of the ship slipping under was more than a powerful display of God's power, but a warning to greater danger waiting to come. How long would it be before he could no longer stand?

Something in the air of the ship changed then. The panic continued with the nature of the tilt becoming impossible to go unnoticed. But, a good majority of passengers seemed to begin accepting their fate. First Class men wore their best suits and removed their life vests, before heading into the upper class dining areas with women and children all dressed equally as devine. They were going to go down as the proper people they were raised to be. The orchestra, who had been playing a horendous happy tune, shifted into something somber. One violinist began to gently pull his bow across the strings, avoiding the familiar plucking noises that plagued the survival effort before. The tune would go unrecognized to no one, and not one heart didn't sink into the abdomen of the holder. The other band members joined in after a moment, seeming to understand what their final stand would be. Base and strum harmonized in an innocent dance of pure grace and affection, a musical prayer being sent to the Heavens in hope for the salvations every lost soul would need. Nearer My God To Thee began to be played. It was anything but quiet, and it filled the whole world with the knowledge that this was real and was happening and there was nothing else they could do but calm the passengers until their last breaths.

Louis felt something in his throat that could only be the familiar bile that burned against his flesh. The song was played as though angels had taken the bows in their hands and begged for all ears to listen. Those who had begged for the musicians to be silent went into silence themselves, and found themselves listening to the melody in the last beat of life. All ears focussed on the tune, and all brains soared to whatever land it desired. Louis thought of Eleanor and his family, safely drifting out to sea and not hearing the full beauty that was this music. He closed his eyes, fluttering them shut so not to let anymore tears slip, and imagined what his life would be like if in Heaven. Harry would be there, standing coquettishly in his usual brace attire, hands in his pockets as he simply stared at Harry with eyes of love and praise. Their world and Heaven and Hell was in one another, and no matter where they went they would spend their eternity together. It didn't matter for once what others thought of them, or that his family disapproved every turn Louis had made since they left Southampton. Harry was what mattered. Harry was the most important gift God had given him. Harry was love. Harry was the love of Louis' life and they were reaching, step by step, closer to God's undying grace and forgiveness.

Someone bumped Louis' shoulder and knocked him out of his trance. He was shocked to find Thomas Andrews apologizing to him, face going into sorrow and regret once he recognized the face across from him, "Oh, hello, young Louis," he spoke in a melancholy tone, eyes flickering up and down, hands stuffed into his pockets and looking as though he had dire business to attend and yet, the look of pure depression told Louis this man was no one to be joked with. 

"Mr. Andrews, where are-" Louis started, Harry taking notice in the new presence for the first time, and stepping slightly behind Louis like a frightened child who needed protection. 

"I worked with this ship. I spent my years on it and made it what it is today. Look where it is today...The ship will sink. And we only have but an hour. There are no lifeboats after the next two and there are hundreds on board...I put this ship together. It was my design. And, who am I to pretend it wasn't my hands that caused this? I'm going to go d-down," Mr.Andrews' voice broke before he could finish whatever else he wanted to say. He finished by shaking his head and turning away from the two boys, who stared and allowed the comfort of the music to take them over, "Oh," Mr.Andrews' spoke out, turning by to Louis with tears prepared to fall down his cheeks, though his pride wouldn't allow anything as that to happen, "I'm sorry I didn't build you a stronger ship, Louis," and with that, he nodded with a tip of the top head on his head, spun on his heals, and began walking to the hall that would take him down to lower rooms. 

Harry felt Louis' hand grip tighter to his own, but couldn't focus on it long because his feet began to slide at a faster pace than they ever were before. The water was growing near and people's screams began to sound distant as the notes of Heaven's song began to fill his ears. Was this what God wanted? Had the sins on this boat been enough to shatter innocent lives being taken down with them? Where was the hope? Love? Kindness? He pressed his forehead against Louis' back and simply allowed the music to take over his thoughts, taking him to a different world where they were still on their way to America, all the lads and girls with them as they bought their own plot of land and started from scratch in the New World to be. He would wake every day tucked into Louis' side, who was awake but remained in bed just for the sight of Harry's eyes fluttering open. He would kiss Harry and they would both rise to begin a day of work. Zayn and Perrie would be wed and had children, of course, Liam and Niall would have found gals or anyone and be simply loving to them. They would all be one large family that worked together on a farm for money and hope. It would be hard, but it would be the ideal of perfection. Then, he could go to bed every night with a kiss from Louis and exchange of words that made their hearts stutter and beat loud in their ears.

Then the music stopped playing, the strings pulling to a gentle finish of the song, "Gentlemen, it has been a privilege playing with you tonight,". Then, slow and dragged out beyond any other means of definition, Harry opened his eyes. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you dolls prefer this to be a long fic? Or rather end it sooner than later? I can make this like two more chapters or ten it's all up to you! -M.


	15. I'm Right Here, Look At Me

When Harry did open his eyes, he was greeted by something he could only compare to pure wrath. He had been so focussed on the memory of the bow going down that he never stopped to see what was going on behind him. He was so in love with the way Louis was protecting him that he didn't think there was any real danger at all. What he was staring at now was the real problem, not the threat of cold water. The stern was lifting into the air, above the surface of the water, going up with a silent death note for all on board. The stern stared back at hm, light figure harsh against the pitch black background of sky and stars. He felt now would be the top notch time to scream or cry, but his breath and voice got locked in his throat and created a threatening silence from him. 

As if he were a child, he tugged on Louis' sleeve, violently. The older boy spun around automatically, sensing Harry was scared. His blue eyes locked on the form of Harry and skided over the monstrous sight ahead of them, making Harry let out the lightest of whines. Harry looked as though he had a novel to say, Louis knew, but something was keeping him from speaking aloud. Som he simply stared at him soft eyes, whilst reaching his hand out to Harry's to give him a sense of meek comfort.

With a sudden burst of energy, Harry grabbed Louis' outstretched hand and forced his muscles to drag both their bodies up the evergrowing slope. His free hand reached to grab anything welded to the planks of the ship, yanking both bodies up with added leverage. It only took Louis one moment to agree that his earlier suspicions about the condition of the boat were completely true. The stern was threateningly monstrous, towering over him as though he were the pesky vermin around the house. He used his free hand to follow Harry's example, grasping whatever he could to pull the two of them toward the top of said monstrous killer.

People around them seemed to have taken notice and left the dream of lifeboats behind. They shuffled their way up the slope, screaming into the open air for a salvation that would never come. It was mystic to see so much scrambling as the human mind slipped into survival mode, shoving past other of their own kind without care that someone else could be sent to their death because of it. Harry would look left to feel sorrow at a mother, legs wrapped around the white railing while her arms clung to a gently wrapped baby. And he could look right to see a rich man shoving past one that he called his companion, allowing his feet to slip and send him to his freezing death. And, when the ache in his limbs and heart would be too much, and he was ready to give up and face a seemingly merciful death, he could look to Louis. His Louis that was panting and trying just as hard in the fight for their own lives. That would always be enough to liberate his body to look at the railing only yards away and keep pushing forward. Each shove would send a fire up his feet and through his spine to torture his mind, but he would shove it all away, thinking nothing but happy thought like he remembered early childhood fairy tales had taught him to do. 'Louis' he though each time he exahled another laboured breath, 'Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis'.

So, through the pain and the blanket that began weighing down his shoulders as an enemy rather than a friend, Harry continued onward. Louis kept their hands locked together in a sweaty touch that most others would find a burden at this point in their life. They continued to pass sights that would make a grown man's stomach churn with bile, but also give the weakest of elders a strange and melancholic burst of hope. Women clinging to their husbands and children, strangers holding on to new orphans and whispering prayers to them as their eyes slipped closed in a quiet slumber that would continue on for the rest of eternity. The boys could turn their heads and make anything they wanted of the sights around them, slipping into the minds of others around them in a futile dream to escape their own tragic surroundings. They could imagine the stories of those around them, and how they might have been altered in the past few days in a similar fashion to how Louis' life had changed. He wanted to ask every person questions about how they lived, and learn their stories before they had no chance of telling them again. But, as they fell from the degree of the ship, the only sign that they were around being the crash of waves in the still waters below, Louis found that the only way to make it out of this situation was to take the way of those shoving past others to save themselves. So, he lowered his morals, and began to do just that.

With the speed they gained, Harry and Louis were closer to the destination than they ever had been, reaching the set of small stairs that were six mere yards away from the peak. It was a new hope through the sweating and the metalic taste on their tongues. They continued on, limbs numb to any feeling at all and no longer feeling connected to their bodies, minds finally begging for them to stop and breaking down each time they refused. Each step began separating their hands even more through exaustion, one of them always reaching out to get a better grip in a rebellion against the world. 

They passed a small church mass. A group of unnamed people clung to whatever they could grab, listening to the preacher whose voice was slowly becoming strained with the realization of the mortality in the tilt. Harry's body continued on, but his mind stopped to listen to whatever the group was saying. They were praying to God to treat their souls correctly when they finally reached their hearts into Heaven. They begged for their sins to be forgiven, and they dreamed to earn a peaceful death. Some were Third Class Harry could recognize, who told stories of never going to church and never fearing God once in their lives. Now, they all stood in a helpless huddle with tears streaming down their cheeks and words falling to deaf ears. Harry's mind left somewhere after that, the feeling of the need to cry apparent, but no tears welling in his eyes. He begged for himself to cry, to weep for those who had already given up any hope for their lives, and for those that had already lost their lives. He thought of Niall, bleeding out on the wooden planks and telling Harry to take the vest and save himself. He thought of the lack of knowledge of where the others were, or if they were even alive. And yet, no tears came. His throat closed and stung and some small pinprick sent a snap of pain from behind his eyes, but nothing came. It was almost pitiful. 

Louis reached out his hand, clamping it around the railing at the peak of the risen stern, letting out a hysterical chuckle and looking down to Harry with wild eyes. At the same time, he caught sight of how high up they really were. The water below was lapping at the deck, splashing against humans that looked like ants. Louis felt more bile rise in his throat, and his muscles twisted into twitching knots as the height of himself became aware. He opened his mouth, feeling the cold air slip into his chapped throat, and whimpering out usless words as his eyes stayed locked down at the dark waters. 

"Louis?" Harry asked, one foot slipping with the stop of motion, and forcing him to use the older boy as life support for a moment before he caught his balance, "Louis?" he asked louder, still barely heard over the screaming. Louis' eyes were wide, locked past Harry staring down and down and down. Harry's memory took him back to the time Louis had bashfully undermined his phobia of heights, and remembered how he had clung to Harry even then. 

At that moment, the lights flickered, a buzz of electricity being heard switching in and out, before finally both died and the ship was left in darkness. Sight was lost to both boys, and their eyes strained through the dark to find one another for some sort of comfort. Harry felt Louis cling to his hand tighter, an autible whimper being heard from the boy above him. Louis was twitching violently, hand threatening to slip involuntarily and let both of their bodies fall in the very way Louis was afraid of them doing. His eyes weren't yet focussed, but Harry stilled stared straight up to where he believed Louis would be standing, eyes welling with tears as his worst nightmare was becoming truth. Against all the screaming, Harry shouted loud enough so Louis could hear, "Louis, darling, look at me yeah? Don't look down, just look at me if you're scared, yeah?" Harry asked with a crack in his voice as his free hand rubbed over the soft fabric of the blanket. 

"I-I C-can't...I can't.." Louis stuttered out through hyperventilation. His voice was horse and strained, giving away that he was trying to hide his tears in the darkness, "I can't s-s-see you, Harry," he finally got out, voice still small over the even more panicked people in the dark, "I can't see you," Louis let out, a sob falling from his lips immediately after.

"I'm right here," Harry soothed. Louis shook his head, though he knew Harry couldn't see him, allowing more sobs and panicked breaths to escape him. In his fear, he couldn't feel Harry was there anymore. Harry was gone. Everything was gone. He was left in a world of black and floating high in the air and he could fall at any minute. Harry gripped Louis' hand harder, feeling his lover twitch in response to it, "I'm right here, Lou, you'll be fine!" Harry begged, one of his feet slipping once again before he replaced it, only to get the same reaction. The slope was getting too steep for the two of them to continued standing on the deck. Harry stopped rubbing his hands over the blanket, his one source of heat if all else went wrong, and he opened his hand. He felt the blanket escape his grasp, falling somewhere into the light figures that were starting to come into view. He reached out for it again for only a moment, before sucking in his breath and wrapping his newly freed hand around Louis', a pitiful sound of fear being let out as his foot slipped once again, "Louis, listen to me, please.  _Please._ I'm right here, yeah? I'm holding your hand and I swear I will not let go. I'm. Right. Here. I know you're scared, I do. We need to get over that railing, darling. If we don't, we'll both fall and we don't want that to happen," Harry felt his voice waver as his other foot began to slip with the lack of traction. He felt panic rising in his throat, no matter how he promised himself he would stay calm like Louis had done through this whole thing, "Pull us up, Lou. Come on, I-..Ha- I know you can do it. You know you can," With the new found sight, Harry watched as Louis shook his head like a child.

"I-I can't," Louis mumbled, eyes still looking past Harry and into the air that was between himself and the water below.

"L-Louis," Harry begged, voice finally allowing itself to shake as only one foot was now straining to sit properly on the deck. He watched people beside him slide down the intense tilt, reaching out to grab anyone or anything that could save them, nails and shoes digging into the wood to produce no good results. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he pictured himself slipping down the wood, looking up at a fearful Louis and meeting his end. He had to stay calm to get to Louis, keep everything calm, calm, calm, "Pull us up. We'll fall if you don't. You don't want that, do you?" Harry asked, forcing himself to stay calm, calm, calm, and only getting more nervous when Louis only let out another choked sob in response. He stared up at a dazed Louis, who focussed on nothing but the height, with no care if they fell or anything but where the were in the air. Harry opened his mouth, not knowing what he was going to say because his one foot slipped another centimeter, feet clinging to the wood by the toes, and hands probably yanking Louis' wrist out of place. 'Stay calm' Harry thought, 'Calm, be calm. Calm. Calm. Calm'. Then, Harry felt his toe slip away from the wood, leaving both feet running against the air to pull him back to weak safety somehow. He became aware of the sweat that coated his hands, and began to separate himself from his Louis, his scrambling legs only pulling him down faster. 

"LOUIS, I AM GOING TO FALL!" 

Louis' eyes shook away from thin air at Harry's murderous scream. He focussed his vision to the curls below him, who was trying desperately to stay in place against the dramtic tilt that wanted nothing more than to take him down. A new fear took hold of Louis, this one making him move on impulse instead of freeze in terror. He used strength he didn't have to lift Harry up to the railing, waiting until his hands were fully around the bars before letting out a shaking breath. Harry was panting, eyes wide with a new awaken fear, but he continued moving so that his legs swung over the rails, and he used his abs to get to the other side of the railing, turning around to face Louis while nearly laying on his stomach in a silent way to ask the other boy to copy him. Louis did so with less grace than Harry, but still made it next to the boy in the end. Louis wrapped his hand around Harry's, eyes finding the green orbs he loved so dearly. Both of them had calmed down, breaths relaxing past their fear as they stared at only each other.

"Well, seems you got over your fear of heights," Harry laughed when he noticed Louis had guilt written over his features. He was prepared to continue on with a monologue on how it was alright and he understood freezing up in the situations of sorts, but his embarrassment got the better of him when Louis took Harry's hand and brought it to his lips for a slow and tender kiss, melting any comments Harry previously had away into nothing.

"I think I found something I'm more afraid of," Louis sighed, looking up into Harry's eyes with a fondness. Harry understood. In the adoring way they were looking back at one another, Harry found the time to understand. Louis had a fear that one doesn't always realize until something threatening begins to happen. Harry had been feeling the same fear since the water began flowing into his cabin and stabbing pins into his toes. They both shared their new phobia and would never be able to overcome it. 

They were terrified of losing one another.

"I'm so sorry," Louis finally shook out, voice still wavering as he pressed as close to Harry as their bodies would allow, "I'm so so sorry, Harry. You must have been terrified. I'm sorry...," 

Harry opened his mouth to say something, tell Louis is was alright, say that it didn't matter now that they were both okay and no longer dangling against the tilt, but sitting on the safer half of it. But, a loud scream of metal against metal sounded, breaking through eardrums and burning the skin of the passengers left clinging to whatever they could. Then, a split second after the scream sounded, the stern of the ship started to fall. 

 

 


	16. Do Not Let Go of My Hand

The stern fell at such a speed that the passengers that were once leaning against the railing, were now clinging to it for their very lives. The air forced up into their bodies with the downward motion felt like whips and torture. All around there was screaming, and no one could even get a thought on their own in. People on deck cheered when the vessle finally landed back into the water, horizontally. Those clinging to the railing were shocked, scared. Many of them even flew off from the side with the force of the collision. The waters rose and fell with mercilous waves that appeared from no where out of the once calm sea. Those who had jumped into the water for safety, certain their way would be the only way to ensure their survival off the tragedy, were now crushed under the massive weight of the Titanic's stern. And ahead of every passenger, there was only shock at the sight.

The ship had split in two, separating somewhere down the middle, the bow somewhere under the waves. The metal had been severed and the ship was left as nothing more than a stranded plot in the deep sea. Aside from the shock and fear, all seemed to calm them. Passengers began cheering for their saved souls as the stern bobbed up and down in the water, seeming to float all on its own. Harry and Louis turned to each other, their entwined hands still connected by white knuckles from holding on so tight. The two boys laughed in their throats, faces not reflecting happiness, but shock. All was calm. The ship was obviously broken beyond all reasonable repair, but there was no more tilt and no one was dying on their watch. Many passengers still clung to pieces that were hooked to the stern, thankful that the ship had still managed to save them in some way.

Before any cheering continued for too long, the stern began rising again. 

It was much faster, stronger, so fast that some people had slipped and landed into the dark waters below with a deathening crash. The stern rose above the terrible tilt it was displaying before, and instead went completely diagonal into the air, pushing Louis and Harry as close to their precious stars as they were sure they were going to get. Louis stayed focussed on not looking down, but looking up. Up into the sky that held such memories, and the sky that was the only other viewer to the sinking other than those aboard. The sky was a comfort, a witness, a friend. It would always be there, watching, keeping the same image of clarity that it always had. Somehow, Louis thought, that made it all the more comforting to lay eyes upon. The world would continue to go on tomorrow, and he would meet the copied stars and night sky once again. He would be on a different ship, riddled with sadness and deep scars, but the sky would be there. And he would be with it. And Harry would be with him. And the two of them would spend each night looking out at the stars that knew everything about the Earth and the Heavens and they would understand that life would always go on. It wouldn't stop for anyone or anything. Daylight would always come, just as nighttime would always fall, and nothing would ever seem to end by that logic. And, with the hopless thought in the back of his light sprinkled eyes, Louis felt at peace somehow.

"KENDALL," Harry shouted next to Louis, successfully screaming him out of his hazy stare. He followed Harry's eyes down to a girl, Kendall. She was clinging to the iron gate that separated the middle deck from the back most section. The gate was open and covered in a generous amount of water. Louis could see the girl's hands slip every few seconds, only to be placed back where they were in her panic. He looked to Harry, who was throwing one leg over the railing with a panicked look in his eyes.

Louis grabbed around his waist, pulling Harry's leg back over the the safer side of the vertical bob, catching his breath when he nearly lost his balance, "What do you think you're doing?" Louis screamed, having to shout even though Harry was right next to him.

"We have to go help her," He screamed back, voice cracking and limbs shaking. Harry's eyes shook back and forth ever so slightly, and Louis wished he could have read minds to understand what his young lover was so afraid of. Harry let out a mix of a choke and a breath of air, trying to fight away from Louis' grip around him and fling an arm over to reach Kendall, who was no aware of the boys' presence. She made no move of calling out to them, just stared past the bars and her bruised hands, all the way up to them. Her eyes spoke of her desire to reach out as if she were planning to grab Harry's outstretched hand, though it was yards away from being close to touching the other. From this distance, Louis knew she was crying, her eyes were probably glassy and the tears were most likely uncontrolled. She was shaking, whether from holding on so long, or from pure adrenaline running through her, no one would ever know. She looked no where else but the boys, hands flailing to keep her grip on the bars. He could see her breath coming out in white spurts, no rhythm to her reason, and nothing but panic seeping through her, "Louis, please, let go," Harry said, all determination in his voice gone though, and the words only came out in tiny squeaks and weak inflections. Harry's body had loosened as well, no longer fighting to be held by Louis, and his body and mind seemed to understand at once that there was nothing he could go to save Kendell from her position.

At the very moment Harry allowed himself to realize this, Kendall didn't replace her hand quick enough, or even attempt to stop her hands from slipping against the iron. Her body fell, seemingly to only kick into action after she was already separated from her life support. The fall alone would kill her, Louis knew. Harry was screaming next to him, most likely sobbing just as he had when Niall disappeared. Louis looked to the stars and thanked them for giving Kendall a somewhat peaceful death, sending her into snapping cold that would shut down her heart immediately. But, he death wasn't something peaceful. On her fall downward, she hit many objects sitting in her path, beating her and breaking her bones and contorting her falling figure into a strange monster with no human features at all. It wasn't until she neared the bottom of her fall that she slammed into the remaining corner of the small First Class dining salon Louis had eaten in with Eleanor only hours ago. It hit at the middle of her spine, sending her body into a snapping half fold. She laid against the corner for a few seconds, eyes staring up into the majestic stars. Harry's breath hitched as he watched, not being able to hear the break of her spine, but watching as the stuggling fight she had on her fall came to and end, and her limp body simply continued falling. It had slipped off the corner like a rag doll, her arms dragging behind her torso and head, the only weight carrying her down being the limp bottom limbs, broken and bleeding. He had looked away by the time she had neared the water. He would never know when she hit it, for there was far too much splashing sounding from all around. But, he knew she was gone. 

Harry wasn't screaming at that time, just staring down with a frozen expression of shock, and the obvious need to cry. But, he couldn't cry anymore. He had cried himself into a dry nothing, sending an emotional callus over him to which he wondered if he would ever overcome. He looked at those that were dangling all around him, similar to Kendall, reaching up with their eyes and just wishing someone would come to their aid and save them. Kendall had died so...suddenly. There was no big goodbye, no tears and words of praise, no final and lasting words that Harry could remember her for. She just let go. She died like so many on this boat had already died. How many were already dead? How many were going to die? Harry didn't want to die like Kendall, no words, no goodbyes, no care for who she was as she fell. Harry didn't want to die in general. And, finally, all these thoughts mixed into one were enough to bring the tears out his eyes once more.

"Louis," he choked out, to which the elder boy only responded by wrapping his arms tighter around Harry's waist, "I'm scared. I don't...I don't want to d-die,"

"You won't, darling," Louis chuckled, heart shattering somewhere in his chest at Harry's words, "We're both going to be fine and alive, and we'll wake up tomorrow and see the sky again and you won't have to be scared anymore. We'll be fine-"

"Please don't lie to me," Harry sobbed, words nothing more than a whisper as his voice could no longer muster volume. He shook his head, trying to shake any horrible thoughts out of his head, but not being able to. He looked down to the water, letting out a disbelieving laugh when he could see the water was still coming closer to them, the ship still sinking into the dark unknown with a speeding pace to make up for the time of calm in has given.

Louis took notice of the water as well, maneuvering his way to be back at Harry's side. He firmly wrapped their hands back together, pulling Harry's attention back to him, "I'm not lying to you, Harry," he spoke as clearly as his frost bitten voice would allow, "I won't let anything happen to you, do you understand? If you get scared, look at me, yeah? Just keep looking at me," Louis spoke with a demanding form of voice, ageing up to a man before his time and confirming to Harry that all would go well. Harry looked frightened at Louis for a moment, to which Louis responded by placing their frozen lips together with a quick touch.

"Now, listen to me, when this ship goes under the water it's going to suck us down with it," he spoke after he pulled away, not allowing the distance betwee the two to become too great as he put their foreheads together. He used his free hand to wipe a single tear away from Harry's face, feeling another section of his heart shatter into pieces. He raised their entwined hands up just enough for Harry to understand he was pointing them out for his next statement, "We could be sucked into that water very far down. But we can stay together this way, yeah?"

Harry blinked in response, enjoying the heat of Louis' forehead to his own far too much to nod in understanding. Harry placed their lips together once again, the sounds of rising water sending a rush of panic through him for an odd reasons, and sparking him into a kiss. This one lasted much longer, both pressing into one another as much as time would allow, stealing kiss after kiss as the water continued to approach. The closer the sound of water became, the more frantic their attatched lips became, they were bruising, filled with force and fear and concern, and no longer sweet and adoring. Louis pulled away, much to Harry's dismay as he focussed down to the water, now risen up to the gate where Kendall had previously fallen.

"On my count, we both take a deep breath," Louis stated, not looking to Harry as both lad's eyes were locked at the distance they were away from the murderous liquid, "Do not let go of my hand," he demaded, placing his lips to the back of Harry's palm before squeezing them together in a strange mix of comfort and fear, "One...,"

The water continued to rise, taking passenger by passenger down with the ship, sucking them into a world avoided for so long. The popping bubbles sounded like gunshots as they rose closer and closer, swallowing the ship up with welcomed arms to do so. It wasn't creeping as it had done earlier, giving up the secret killing method to go much more direct, "Two...," Louis spoke, loud against the increasing volume of the disaster around him. Both lads stared into the dark waters with focussed and determined eyes, a new passion of survival pulling against the strings of their hearts. Harry counted second by second to avoid his anxiety and Louis debated when they should both suck in their saving breath of air. The water was dangerously close to them when he finally decided that there was no better time than the present.

"Three,"

 

 

 


	17. They're Going To Come Back

The world went from something familiar, terrifying as it may be, to a land never before touched. The initial touch of water felt more as though they were being caressed by flames, unyeilding pain striking them like one thousand knives. Water rushed against human bodies with a chill strong enough to strike down twenty armies. The ocean was a new place, just as terrifying, but also hopelessly unfamiliar and strange. A thick numbness settled around everyone caught under the surface, even the wisest man not knowing when his arm began and ended. Bodies thrashed against one another in strained attempts to reach the sweet light that was the water's surface. Everyone kicked in different directions, hoping it was up against the suction of the ship going deeper and deeper into the depths. 

Louis clung to Harry's hand, trying to open his eyes to find a way to air, only to find a thick burning invading his vision instead. With his vision once again taken away from him, he was left reaching his free hand out in every direction. He could feel the ice bouncing off his skin and further sending his body into shock. Through it all, he could still feel himself being pulled down and, consequently, taking Harry along with him. Harry's body threatening to leave Louis', Louis' lack of a life vest making him like an anchor in the water as all Harry's vision wanted to do was float to the surface. Every centimeter deeper sent a fire through Louis' limbs, beginning from his lungs and burning up into his throat and chest. His body screamed for oxygen, kicking into survival mode and only shooting waves of panic through every nerve ending. The heat was shifting into unbearable pain, stiffening his muscles into uselessness. He lost every sense of up and down, and he couldn't even sense the feeling of if he was using his legs to kick or not. With a strange shift of tide, he felt his hand that once was connected with Harry's, suddenly torn away to face the smack of ice. He reached his hand out for several moments, only panicking more when Harry was no where to be found, and his body continued its way downward with the ship.

Harry came to the surface with a slight bob from his life vest. He shook the water out of his vision, taking in gulps of precious air and allowed the life to flow back into him. He took notice of the freeness of both his palms, suddenly splashing around against the surface tension and turning around himself to look for Louis. He could barely hear himself screaming out Louis' name over the constant growls of others around him. People only splashed around him against his strained cries, and he felt a sense of loneliness settle around him though he had hundreds around him all stuck in the same situation he found himself in. Harry refused to allow himself to panic, for Louis was surely alive, splashing around in the water just as he had been moment ago, maybe even calling out Harry's name in the hopes he would swim up to him. Harry's sudden stop of movement sent shivers through him, beginning with his head and sending down into his feet. He felt his body curl in on itself slightly, wishing to find the warmth that was his uncomfortable bed now, staring up at the boring ceiling and falling into a hazy and unmemorable sleep. Now, he found himself alone in the ocean, shaking without control and Louis no where to be found... 

Ice pricked at the tips of his soaked skin, striking him with never ending pin pricks that sent more cold through his veins. He wondered, distantly, if the life boats in the distance could hear the screaming, and still continued to row away with smiles on their faces. Harry's teeth began to chatter without his command, a more pleasing sound against the contiuing screams of those around him. He bobbed over the waves, feeling his muscles twitch in a silent attempt to force Harry to move and gain back heat. 

"Harry," he heared somewhere around him. He shook his body away from itself and glanced around, simple turns at first, then thrashing and painful movement when his name continued to be echoed through the air. He recognized the voice, distant as it was, and found himself praying for himself to be found, saved from the lonely Hell he found himself breathing in. 

Someone grabbed Harry by the shoulder, sending a shuttering shock through him, igniting his heart into such a pace a human could never reach. He spun around as fast as his body would allow, only to find a vision of loveliness staring back at him. The boy let out a light laugh, only to break the tension and fear, and pulled Harry into the tightest hug against the flow of the ocean. Harry buried his face into the wet shirt against his back and let out a half sob- half laugh before pulling away and marveling at the sight of Zayn still clinging to him, "I found you, I-, G-, Jesus Christ, Harry, I found you!" he cried, holding onto Harry's shoulders, moving his hands to his cheeks and eventually back into a tight hug. Zayn rested his head atop Harry's wet mop of curls, almost nuzzling his face into them with a content sigh.

"W-Where's Li? And Perrie?" Harry asked, voice shaking despite the burning warmth that came from their bodies being pressed together. 

Zayn's whole body tensed, through cold or fear, Harry avoided knowing, "Haven't the slightest clue," he said, barely heard over the continued screaming, "I could ask you the same thing about Niall, Kendall, and Louis," Zayn huffed out, sounding as though he was only kidding. Harry fisted Zayn's shirt in his hand as memories of the night flew through his brain. He had lost Niall, bleeding out in his arms with a smile still pressed against his face, he lost Kendall and watched as her body was breaking into uncountable pieces over and over again. And now, he had lost Louis. To how he was gone, it was only God's guess.

"We need to get out of the water, n-now, come on," Zayn commanded, grabbing Harry's hand and pushing through the water to an unknown destination. He turned every so often to see how Harry was doing, keeping a firm grip on the younger's hand just in case the condition of his body was poor. Zayn sent encouraging words to Harry, repeating the need for them to only swim a little farther to get where they were going. Harry began feeling the burn in his already weak limbs, and was about to begin begging and whining for Zayn to allow the to stop for some time, when he saw the Promised Land. An overturned lifeboat sat floating in the water, bobbing with no one the wiser to its existance, "Climb up, H," Zayn smirked, patting Harry on the back before assisting the boy in any way he could to end up balancing on the top of the makeshift raft. Zayn followed up after Harry, the younger of the two spreading his weight out as evenly as he could to keep them from flipping over. 

When the two were firmly spread out, the boat no longer rocking side to side with the lack of balance, they each curled their knees in in a small attempt to gain back some warmth. They sat in silence other than both their breaths shaking out into white puffs of smoke, staining their vision temporarily before fluttering away. Harry placed his forehead to his knees and allowed himself the time to sit and breath and think. There was so much to think about. He had Zayn. Zayn found him and they were back together and that was enough of a solace to keep his sanity holding for hours longer. They were out of the water and lessened their chances of freezing to death in the wait for being rescued. But, Harry hadn't a clue where Louis had gone, and Zayn didn't know where Liam and Perrie were. For all he knew, all three of them were somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, crushed under parts of a destroyed ship and already thought their last thought toward the surface. Niall and Kendall were dead, gone, lost, something that would just be a new scar in everyone's memory when they thought back. How long would it be before Harry let himself slip into mortality's precious touch, clinging to the idea of Heaven and taking his last glimpse to the stars before finally joining them?

"You won't be dying anytime soon," Zayn said, voice wavering as the cold seeped another layer of chills over his spine. Harry hadn't realized he had even been speaking outloud, he wasn't even sure if he had or not, "We'll find them, the whole lot of them. And we'll fit all of us right on this boat and we'll be happy, Harry. Those lifeboats out there," Zayn paused to point out in the distance where several lifeboats were staring blankly, bobbing over the waves and knowing well that people were still dying, "They're going to come back here as soon as they can, and pick up as many people as possible. Then, another ship will come to us tomorrow, and we'll be, once again, on our way," Zayn sounded like he was smiling, but his expression didn't match his words. His face was cold, unfeeling, blank, almost like he was speaking to convince himself, and not the younger lad in front of him. Harry wanted to open his mouth and comfort his brother, reach out and touch him and let him know he was there and everything he was saying could be a lie but they were alive now, and that's all that should matter. But, he found nothing was able to work, only his mind that kept him trapped in his thoughts. So, he continued to shiver against himself in the cold, body slowly freezing in its place, staring at nothing in particular.

"I love you, Harry," Zayn suddenly said, breaking through the silence. A hand suddenly landed on Harry's, followed by a slight rocking of the boat from side to side. Harry didn't move, didn't speak, only whimpered back his response. He wanted to talk, to tell Zayn not to start talking like that and that everything would be fine. He wanted to be there for Zayn as well, he wanted to grow up and stop having everyone save him. But, he couldn't do it. He was too cold to even attempt the idea of making a move away from his ball of heat.

And he was not fine with the idea of lying to Zayn.

So, Harry decided his pathetic whimper would have to be enough for now, and he allowed the two to slip back into the comfortable, sorrowfilled quiet. Screams still echoed from around, slowly dying down into crying or people simply speaking, overcoming the initial shock of the water, and some even began praying. Zayn placed an arm around Harry, keeping their bodies as close as possible and building a string of heat around them. Both their eyes closed, and they felt their exhausted bodies finally beging to doze off into dreams.

'It's warm' Harry thought.

 

 

Harry awoke in a daze, believing he had jumped from the sudden movement of the boat. His brain went into action to turn his head, and he found the action to be incredibly slow in pace. As he worked through the struggle to crane his neck away from his forearms, he found ice chipping away off his body and landing back into the black ocean. He was no longer soaking wet as he had been when he had first closed his eyes, and instead felt as though he was a moving block of ice in himself. His eyes scanned out into the waters away from the boat, the passengers he and Zayn had left far off into the waves as they thrashed and screamed for someone to come back and save them. The air was eerily quiet, and the water was frighteningly still. The only ripples being made were from the sleeping people who bobbed above the surface due to their life vests. People clung to doors and other items that the ship didn't carry down, their hands frozen to be locked around the object until someone could forcefully remove them. 

He continued his slow head turn toward what he thought would be Zayn, possibly catching sight of a rescue boat and moving to get their attention. But, Zayn wasn't wrapped around Harry when he had fully turned to see. Zayn was no where to be seen, the only sign he was ever there being the pieces of ice sticking up from his former place on the boat. But, there was an unknown figure moving across the boat, Harry could see the movement of a black silhouette and the white air that formed in clouds from whenever the figure would let out a shaking breath. When Harry's vision finally began working with him, he could see the features on the mysterious silhouette's face. He looked just as gorgeous as when Harry had first laid eyes on him. He was much paler, his skin looking like paper, and his pink lips being sucked into a dark blue pigment. Everywhere the ice could form around his body, it had, coming from his hair and eyelashes. His clothes looked nearly frozen in their place, the air and water mixing for a lethal cocktail. But, he still looked heavenly as Harry had pictured in his previous dream.

"C-C-Christ, Harry, you're fre-ezing," someone said. Harry thought he might cry if it wasn't for the origin of shock. The voice was as rough and wrecked, scratched and temporarily ruined from the harsh weather conditions, but it still sounded like it was delivered by angels. Harry thought he might have died, if he didn't feel and see the presence of the other. He was just as gorgeous as Harry remembered him when they first saw one another, nothing but something crafted perfectly by God, only now, he was coated with a generous layout of ice. But he was real. Harry wrapped a hand tightly around the wetness of his shirt and breathed out a shaking sigh at the fact he was tangable and real, not some death induced hallucination. 

"L-L-Lou-is?" Harry asked, shocked at the weak sound that his vocal chords produced. He placed his head to Louis' chest, listening to the beat of his heart with a childlike admiration, "L-Louis," he tried to sound more excited, but his voice remained a shaking whisper as the boy held him closer, pressing Harry as deep into his chest as he could allow.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry I di-dn't g-get here f-....faster," Louis shook out, taking up as little space as he could to keep Harry close to him. The temperature was far too low to allow it, but Louis felt like he could cry. In his arms was his Harry, real, alive, and there. He was amess, shaking and clinging hopelessly to a dead body when Louis had first found him, and he looked so fragile now, so breakable. If Louis squeezed hard enough, he feared he might shatter his porcelain skin, but not hard enough could mean death in a much slower way. Everything was eerie now, the screams and cries growing quiet, filling the air with a more fearing silence. Bodies floated around in the water, lifeless humans knocking into Louis during his swim to find his lover. He hadn't a clue of how long everyone had been waiting, sitting around for some savior that would never come. He just knew it was long enough for people to choose eternal slumber over a few more hours of fighting. 

"W-Wher-re's Zay-n?" 

Louis swallowed, wincing slightly at the saliva scraping against his dry throat. He cast his eyes behind him for a moment, looking at the body of Zayn, floating in the distance, coated in ice and heart stopped beating. When Louis had glanced back to Harry, he found the younger boy to be staring up at him with wide eyes, innocent and curious and utterly breathtaking, "He-....H-He's asl-eep-p now," Louis simply said, forcing the hand that was not supporting Harry's back to move as best it could through Harry's frozen curls. Louis waited for a sob to come, but found Harry only nodding in a drowsy understanding. 

"I-I'm-I'm ti-tired, Lo-u," Harry stated, wanting to drift against the sound of Louis' heart against his ear.


	18. Never Let Go

"I-I'm-I'm ti-tired, Lo-u," Harry stated, wanting to drift against the sound of Louis' heart against his ear.

Louis felt the breath he was trying so desperately to obtain, leave him. The stinging prick of tears filled from the corner of Louis' eyes as he stared down at his Harry, his eyes staring back up at him with a glazed distance. It was as if Harry wasn't truly looking at him, but at an unknown figure around him, in similarity to the way Niall had stared at his time. This realization forced the air back into Louis' lungs and gave him a new power to speak, "I-," he started, voice already breaking. He took this time to place his hand to Harry's cheek, almost upset by the numbness overcoming his nerves and not allowing him to feel the familiar presence, "I k-know you're t-ired, love. B-but you h-h-have to st-ay awak-ke," Louis shook out, chest heaving to continue getting a fair amount of air, which seethed back out between his words. Harry's eyes widened for a moment, as if in disbelief that Louis was going to force him to keep his eyes open for even one more moment, "W-w-when those boats g-get over to us, th-then you can sl-sleep," Louis half smiled, earning no change of face from the boy in his arms, just a twitching nod against his chest in a relieving response.

They both fell silent for some time, the occational twitch or burning touch being the only telling sign that either one hadn't yet frozen to death. Louis kept his eyes on Harry, focussed on making sure Harry never drifted into closing his eyes for a moment too long. But, Harry seemed to find his energy in the sky, glancing passed Louis and into the stars above. He imagined that Niall was there, Kendall as well, staring down at him with chipper smiles and kind words. They were warm, and happy, and inviting Harry to join along. He wanted to speak, explain that he loved the idea, but Louis had asked him to stay awake for just a little longer. But that wouldn't stop him from looking into the stars and find the twinkling images he often stared at. It was all so gorgeous. The stars twinkled gently against the black sky as if on a canvas. They stared back at Harry, no way of making expressions and yet smiling right down at him. 

Harry changed his line of sight to Louis, who was already looking back at him. He thought he might explode from happiness at those blue eyes staring down at him. He was also rather upset, because the icey blue irises he had fallen for looked black in the lacking light of night, and the expression Louis was making looked quite foul. Harry thought that his heart might have shattered at the expression his lover was making, but he was so numb and light in the air that he could barely tell what was real and what he was only dreaming of. Slowly, cracking another layer of ice off his arm, Harry pulled one of his hands away from Louis' shirt and placed his own hand over Louis', which still rested against his cheek. He went over the night's events in his head, the last four day's events following soon after. It made his joy faulter, and his twitching smile faded into a look poor enough to match Louis.

"L-L-L," Harry started, his voice cracking and forcing him to realize he couldn't finish the word. A burning lump began forming in his throat that told him he could be moments away from crying. He swallowed against it, holding his breath for only a moment and yet for too long. He let out a burning puff of air after, it came out quickly and horridly and only succeeded in making Harry terrified of himself, "D-do you r-regr-..regret g-getting on the ship n-now?" Harry asked, a large tremor running down his spine and causing his entire body to jerk against Louis'. The boat shook for a moment, but neither boy moved even their eyes form being entwined in one another.

A pitiful whimper sounded from Louis, who was using all of his strength to not cry at this point. His lips pulled into a tight line, keeping in any other pre-sob noises. Louis shook his head, small twitches of the neck from right to left being the only movement he could actually visibly create, "L-Listen to m-me, Harry. W-when I got on th-this ship-p, I was g-going off to America by a b-ball and ch-chain. W-When I got on this sh-ship, I-I," Louis took a break in his stuttering to let out a soft and disbelieving chuckle, "I found someth-ing so m-marvelous. A-and that s-something was y-you, H-Harry," the corners of Harry's mouth tugged into a light smile, barely noticable, but still gorgeous enough for Louis to fall in love with again. The boy shaking in his arms was staring up at him with wide eyes full of tears that he could only hope were at least ones of pure joy, "Y-you were someone s-so inter-teresting, I w-wondered how you could be s-so happy when y-you had n-nothing. I w-wanted to be you, I was s-so j-j-jealous. W-when you ran up to th-that g-gangplank-k, I couldn't k-keep my eyes off you," Harry started letting tears slip at this point, making his frozen face glow with lines of shining liquid. The warm tears landed against Louis' palm, making the tears in his eyes ever more prepared to fall. Louis couldn't stop the smile from breaking out on his face as he thought back to Harry tripping over himself and to the floor, perfect laughter stiking Cupid's arrow into his heart without him even knowing. 

"H-how could I know w-when I stepped d-down into Third Class, it would ch-ch-change my life? I-I lov-...I love you," Louis began gently moving his thumb over Harry's cheek, staring down at Harry like the majestic work of art he was. Even coated in ice, Harry was gorgeous, he was as close to perfection as anyone would ever come. And, in this very, distinct moment, he was Louis'. It was enough to send his emotions into a fury and burn away any control he had over himself, "I l-love you," he stated again, sounding much more sincere than his previous statement, "I-I love you so m-much. W-words can't even d-describe it," Louis felt a warm tear slick down his cheek, "I-If I died right-t here, and I had t-to count my r-regret-ts, th-this...m-meeting you...would-...I w-will n-nev-never regret finding my w-way on the T-Titanic if it meant fi-nding my w-way to you," tears were flowing down Louis' cheeks now, making it more difficult for Louis to get a finished word in, "I love y-you," Louis forced out, voice breaking into a sob as the tears took control over his own body. His smile was gone, as was Harry's, and the two boys were only left to try to keep their eyes locked on each other through their tears. The only sounds that came from the overturned boat were the choked sobs from one of the two crying lads.

Harry pulled Louis' hand away from his cheek, and brought it to his blue lips, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. Harry was taken back to the first time Louis had ever placed some sort of kiss to his body, the back of the very hand he was using now. Louis didn't look flustered, but he did let loose a weak smile, and his eyes reflected a gleam of love. The two kept their hands entwined, as usual, shaking in each other's grasp and feeling the cold's burn only sneak deeper in their cores, "C-can we look at th-them one m-more t-time, p-p-please?" Harry smiled brightly, his voice straining into a type of beg. Louis took the phrase in for a moment, letting two more tears slick down his face as he nodded more time than he ever had to say 'yes' before.

They stayed in their cuddled position, but both heads and gazes turned to the sky. High, high above them and into the stars that they had stared at, side by side, the first night they had ever met one another, "I-I always loved-d them," Harry continued, taking the silence as a chance for him to finally speak through the tears that were drawing to an end, "I-I'm glad the night-t was cl-clear so w-we could l-look at-t them again t-together...N-never let g-go...of m-me, Lo-Louis...," Louis made a slight noise in his throat, between a content grunt and sloppy sob, as a sound of agreement and understanding. Harry stared up into the stars once more, lost in the sight of them, "I-.....I don't r-regret it-t either," he smiled, words barely loud enough for Louis to hear. The older boy turned his attention back to Harry, seeing his eyes still lost up in the sky. It made Louis' heart flutter to see Harry look so happy, so childish in being enamoured with something so unreal and unknown. Against the twitching temors that shook through his body, Harry was able to fight against the cold and be here, real and alive, to look at the stars and squeeze Louis' hand a little tighter every so often. Harry's eyes refocussed on Louis once again, sending the tightest squeeze to his hand that he could produce in the weak state, "I-I'm so ti-tired, Louis," he almost sang out, already drifting to separate from reality.

"I know, I k-know, Har- Harry. But, you h-have to st-stay awak-ke just a b-bit longer," Louis soothed, sending a squeeze with just as much strength back to Harry's hand. Harry seemed like he was already half way to sleep, staring up at Louis with drooping eyes and leaning his head deeper into Louis' chest, "Th-think of America, y-yeah? Think-k of us th-there, and-d how happy w-we will b-be," Harry seemed to awake only slightly more, "A-and the two of us, h-happy, w-working, m-maybe even p-picking up some ch-children, y-yeah? I-it would all be a-amazing, so p-perfect, yeah? F-For me, Harry. St-stay awake j-just a l-little longer, for m-me," The grip Harry was giving back to his hand was faultering, the intense hold of his fingers loosening one by one as he strained to keep his eyes open and looking to Louis' face, "F-for me...."

Harry moved his head in what one would assume to be a nod, "F-for you..." he breathed, light as air and nearly nothing. His eyes fluttered open and closed as they lost their true focus on Louis. Harry's smile flashed for a moment as he found the best image of Louis he could gain before closing his eyes, "I l-love you, Louis," 

Then, his eyes drifted closed.

Louis let out a loud sob from the back of his throat, making his breath hitch and any other breaths following after nothing more than a hiccup. Harry's and his own hand stayed locked together in a frozen position, and the full weight of Harry sunk in his arms. He looked peaceful, like an angel, as though he were sleeping. Tears flooded out of Louis' eyes to make another ocean as he shook his head in disbelief. He placed his head atop Harry's, not wanting to miss the feeling of the younger's head against his heart. Louis allowed himself to cry, openly sobbing against the horrid silence. He felt himself slipping as Harry must have been, body growing steadily tired and only wanting to close his eyes for one moment. With a few hiccuping breaths, Louis planted a kiss to Harry's head, carefully leaning both their bodies down, taking care to make sure the boat wouldn't move to a great degree. When both boys were laying against the ice cold of the boat, Louis alligned their figures so their foreheads were together. He took one final glimpse up to the stars before he let his tears drift him into enticing slumber. 


	19. Heart of the Ocean

The ocean pushed and pulled with new waves, rocking water against the black hull of the Carpathia as she headed down the rest of the Atlantic pathway to New York. Louis leaned against his forearms, pressed against the cold railing as the ragged blanket still remained wrapped tight around his shoulders as it had been when he awoke. When he awoke without his Harry by his side. When he awoke with a subtle confusion at first, and nothing but burning sorrow when he recalled the night's events. When he awoke and wished he hadn't. The thought alone was enough to send his pride leaking down his face in the form of heated tears, a reaction that refused to stop even if he had desired it to. Each time he thought his emotions were dried up, he only could picture a freezing Harry, smiling happily as dreams filled his head for the last time, and that would send a new wave of tears down his face. He was just as terrible as the widows running around deck, begging anyone they could if they had seen their husbands, only to crash to the floor when no sight had been gathered. His eyes were puffy and red, and he didn't give a damn. The whole, bloody world could know what a wreck he was. He was perfectly content with it, because his Harry was gone. Gone. He had died right there. And there was no way to get him back. Gone. In an instant, gone. The word repeated over in Louis' head in a horrid echo that made him choke out tears with hiccuping breaths he couldn't catch, head falling against his arms to allow the tears to have a chance to fall into the water below. Louis hoped they would fall and drift down to wherever Harry was, because Louis never found the chance to say goodbye. He simply closed his eyes.

"Sir," a man next to Louis spoke softly, noticing that the younger lad was obviously weeping and easily taking pity on him. Louis lifted his head slowly, allowing himself a few moments to calm himself before turning to the man, a sailor from the Carpathia. He was holding a pen in one hand and a clipboard in the other, taking the names of those who survived to reunite families and leak to the papers, "I need your name, Sir," the man announced again, voice soft and silently trying to sooth Louis out of his depression.

"To-Tomlinson," Louis choked, his voice hoarse with the soft whimpers he had been spewing all day. The man leaned in, silently asking for Louis to repeat his name for lack of understanding. Louis gave himself a few moments, choking against the back of his throat and taking a deep breath to will the tears to an end for the time being, "Tomlinson," he managed, voice still straining with a suppressed hiccup, "Louis Tomlinson," he nodded, the man scanning his eyes down the list of collected names before allowing his brown irises to widen, eyesbrows threatening to rise into his hair line. Louis began wiping at his eyes, trying to force the tears away and calm himself, expecting the man to venture out and collect more titles and leave him be.

"Mr. Tomlinson," the man continued, Louis' attention flowing back to him with a vexed expression, "Someone has been asking for you all day," the man sounded excited, almost like a child who was looking for praise. Louis body stuttered with a drowsy excitement, pushing away from the railing and the trauma filled ocean, prompting the man to take the lead. The man nodded once before twisting and turning through his knowledge of the ship, Louis following several footsteps behind due to the fact his body couldn't handle walking any faster, both from crippling sorrow and fatigue he hadn't healthily slept off. He was awoken an hour ago by the stutter of the boat, screaming to the point where a nurse of the ship's infirmary had to shake him awake through the terror. She explained it all to him, how they had found him when he was nearly dead, he looked dead, but they checked his pulse and dragged him along. When he asked about the curly boy next to him, she cocked her head and wondered what he was speaking of. The start of Louis horrendous crying. He was only lead to the other side of the ship, to where the railing was once again visable, excusing himself whenever he accidentally hit the side of another grieving person. He barely noticed when the man had stopped to hold out his hand to a women, looking far different than all other women on deck. Her dress was the same red and black one she had been wearing that night before, different than the other ladies who had found the drive to change, and her brown curls had drifted into tangled waves of brown. She was here, staring out to the sea as Louis had been. 

She turned around as if on cue to the man behind her, eyes red rimmed as Louis' were, face immediately crumpling with a mix of sorrow and no greater joy. She was there, looking as gorgeous as the day he met her, as refined as ever even when she looked disheveled. She was the sweet girl who Louis had never felt so close to despite the distance they encountered in the past hours. Eleanor. His very special Ellie was here, beginning to create small sobbing sounds in his throat as tears poured over her eyes. Louis waited not a moment longer before darting toward her and wrapping her arms around her slender frame, she reciprocated the action, burying her face into his neck and letting out a high pitched sob. He kept one arm around her waist, the other cradling her head as he allowed more delighted sorts of tears to take place, trying his best to lull her sobs to a close despite his taking complete control as well. They stayed that way, crying and being the envy of every woman around as they held each other impossibly tighter every few seconds, trying to control their tears and sobbing about nothing and everything at once. After a good few minutes past, they separated, still hesitantly even though they had spent minutes upon minutes connected.

Louis still kept his hands around her waist, keeping her close for comfort's sake, as she stared down to her left hand. The diamond ring graced her ring finger, shining and heavy and much more expensive and flashy than needed in asking for one's hand. She smiled at it, using her right hand to twist it around her finger, deep in thought. With slow movements, she pulled the rock off her hand, stretching her fingers with the new feeling of freedom. She grasped it with both hands as her eyes scanned over each curve of it very carefully, as if she planned to burn it into her memory right then and there. She pulled one of Louis' hands away from her, keeping his palm open as she laid the ring in his hand, before closing it around the diamond with a shaking breath, "I believe that belongs to you," she smiled, a tear streaming down her right cheek as she tried to collect herself before anything more could happen. She pressed up on her toes, ghosting her lips to Louis' cheek, causing a feeling of warmth to spread through him for the first time in forever. When she pulled away, she removed the remaining arm from around her waist, keeping their hands entwined for only a moment before she giggled the childish giggle Louis thought he could just fall in love with had his heart not already been stolen, she moved her hands up to rub against his cheek bones when his face contorted into an identifiable sadness, "Now, sweetheart, I'm not letting you off easy. I want you to keep this ring, and give it to the one person who you  _want_ to give it to, no questions asked. I want you to go out and love more than life itself, even if I'm not the one on the other end," Louis felt his heart shatter somewhere in his hollow chest at the strained look on her face to remain controlled, "I want you to be happy, sweetheart...can you do that?" she asked, earning twitching head motions up and down as a response, "Thank you, Louis, for everything," 

She moved her hands from his face, his hand finding hers in a final contact. She smiled, shaking her head as she began walking off to who knows where. Their hands pulled apart, skin sliding against one another in the most innocent of intimate ways. Their fingertips lingered for a moment, a silent regret to say goodbye as they finally separated and she turned away from him, running across the deck and into a crowd of people he couldn't see through. 

The sailor hadn't drifted far, standing in front of a woman and prooving to her that her husand wasn't accounted for. Louis stared at the man for some time, eyes straining to see the list but failing. Despite the depleted number of people from the Titanic, navigating to find anyone would be nearly impossible. When the woman had finally accepted the situation, and darted off somewhere in frantic tears, Louis strode forward to the frowning sailor. He looked much more tired than he had a few moments ago, "Excuse me," Louis started, not even sure who he was going to ask for now that Eleanor had came and gone, "Do...Do you maybe have a Harry Styles on that list?" he asked, voice timid. The sailor scanned throuhg pages and pages against his clipboard, shaking his head without looking up to Louis when everything was done. Louis felt his heart shatter, though his brain scolded him for being idiotic enough to ask despite the truth he already held. He stared down at the wooden floors as if they were the most interesting things in the world, trying to will control over himself, "What about...uh...a Perrie Edwards? Or a Liam Payne?" he asked, voice sprinkled with hope.

"Uh, no Perrie Edwards, Sir," the man gasped with the visible flinch of Louis' shoulders, "But- Oh! We have a Liam Payne listed, yes, Third Class, correct?" Louis didn't even answer before he was sprinting down the steps into the Second Class deck, apologizing to whoever he ran into along the way, though most were to drained to care. He tripped onto the Third Class deck, taking notice that more First Class men had made it than Third Class women and children, bunches of shaking bodies wrapped in blankets to beat out the lingering cold. He spotted Liam with an unknown woman, brown, long, tangled hair, with bright brown eyes. From her clothing and lack of knowledge of her face, Louis assumed she was Second Class. As he walked to his mate, people who recognized him hugged him, thanked God for him being okay, children even hugged his legs and cried against him. He was in a strange relationship with the Third Class people, and they treated him as an odd family...They knew his name, his face, his heart, and his spirit. They embraced it, as if he were born with them, as if he struggled with them. Louis felt, for just a moment, that it wasn't due to the few days he had spent mucking around with them, but because they had all faced the same struggle. Classes didn't matter anymore, everyone was in misery. First, and Second, and Third? None of it mattered anymore. Only humanity could prevail. 

Liam stood, nearly knocking the life out of him with a bone crushing hug, to which he happily reciprocated. Liam wasted no time in introducing the woman next to him as Sophia Smith, and wasted no time in picking up with Louis, and telling him his experience, "When the four of us got separated, we all panicked. Right, go left, get a boat. We wanted one...in all that shit, we got separated into twos, and we were screwed. Perrie was a proper wreck, screaming for Zayn and Kendall and losing herself faster than I could find the pieces. I needed to grab her a boat, I didn't need to be on it, ya know? Just get her safe, it would be what Zayn wanted! But, she assumed the worst...and- uh- she jumped," Sophia gave a squeeze to Liam's hand when he clenched his eyes tight at the memory, "The boat wasn't even THAT tilted, so I thought she would be fine...but she just-just bobbed there. Stopped moving....," Liam glanced to Louis, eyes glassy as he continued, "I was a coward, Lou. I found the first boat I could and jumped into it...they didn't even try to shoot me. But-...that's how I bumped into Sophia, here," Liam smiled as he kissed the back of Sophia's hand, making Louis feel a pang of unknown jealousy. Liam could do that with someone..."I'm...I'm guessing by the fact Sophia and you are the only ones around me that you didn't experience smooth sailing either?" 

Louis took a breath, the whole night seeming to flash from his eyes, starting from the white slap when a gun rang out to hit Niall, "The three of us...we didn't last two minutes before things fell apart. People were running boats and they started firing warning shots and...and Niall..." Louis stopped, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat, to which Liam placed his free hand on Louis' back in understanding, "After...that...It was just me and Harry for awhile. we survived a lot, yeah, it was terrifying. God awful...we found Kendall, though. The boat was up....and Harry was trying to- God, and maybe if I had just let him- maybe we could have done something- but..." he shook out a breath as his vision blurred with the images of Kendall snapping into pieces, "She- she fell! Broke everything on the way down, and then just died. She was- God- she was calling out to Harry. She didn't want to-..she.....Harry and I got separated in the water, and I swam around for awhile trying to find him. He was huddled up with Zayn, out of the water. I was- I was so happy. But, Zayn was-uh-Zayn was...Zayn was dead. Frozen," Liam blinked out a river of tears at this point, shaking his head and digging his nails into Louis' back, "Harry-Harry he-uh- he woke up when I got to him. While he was-...when he was- I was there- he- I- I was right there when he- he-uh-," Louis' throat closed on him, and suddenly he was crying again without thinking, Liam in a similar state to him, "I was...was planning on going with him after he- uh-....but I'm here, I suppose," Louis finished with harsh wipes against his eyes. Liam cried for some time, Sophia soothing him with small gestures that made Louis angry enough to punch the side of the ship with a groan. They stayed that way until the night came, rain drifting down over their heads and making them huddle closer for warmth.

"Louis...where do you plan to go when you reach America?" Sophia asked when a fit of silence fell on the three, scanning over Louis, who she had heard plenty about over the passing hours, "You said you were always planning to run away...then, you were going to run away with Harry... so, what do you want to do now?"

He sat there, staring into the sky covered with clouds, stars not able to be seen, and he thought over the question. Sophia and Liam would surely start a life together, leaning on one another for the mental support they would need. Where would Louis go? Who would support him through this? Without....without Harry...without HIS Harry, what did he have? The thought would bring him to tears had he not already run the river dry. He turned to Sophia, her brown eyes scanning over him with a type of drowsy curiosity, the type he found himself having for Harry their very first night together, "I-"

~*~*~*~*~

"I would like to work things out with you, Mother," Louis stated, standing tall in front of his mother, who had just finished hugging him to death and weeping her soul out. Louis took great notice that Eleanor was by her side, and his father was no where to be seen. They had spent two days on the Carpathia, traveling the rest of the way through the sea, giving Louis two days to think on Sophia's question. Where would he go? Who could support him when there was no one? Family. Family could. His father was gone, somewhere off in the sea with Harry and the others...and despite how the thought once made Louis sick, he would become the man of the family. He nearly lost his mother and Eleanor, and that was enough to sway his opinion on how he would run his life. Anything was better than being alone, though it took him some time to reach that conclusion. Not until he saw the most glorious vision of his life, better than the Titanic- the famed Statue of Liberty, glowing against the dark, night sky and reaching to the stars. He was in America, a place of hope, and dreams, and starting new lives...Louis could work with that, "I will learn to lead the company, I'll be a son you can be proud of...I promise,"

People were shoving themselves off the Carpathia, running down gangways to the thousands of family members waiting below, already informed of the trouble much to Louis' surprise. Johannah thought she would nearly fall and die, her son finally taking a lead and trying to please her, even though she knew somewhere in her heart he would never be happy. He was trying...and that was a start, "I-yes! Darling, I would love that very much," she embraced her son, making him gasp at the first time he ever, ever had been hugged by his mummy. He melted into the touch, cuddling into her like a child and feeling a slight spark of happiness in him, "We can all start over here, all of us! I'll be a better mummy to you, Darling. They can take away my jewls and my money...because you're the most important thing to me! As soon as we're up for it, we'll catch a boat back to Britain...I need to see my babies..." Louis thought back to his sisters, probably reading the paper and panicking, crying already. He hoped they could manage for awhile longer. Until then, Louis felt more warmth against his chest...not happy. But better.

The three came down the gangway, into a crowd of people who were either hugging or crying in the street. Louis sighed at the lack of his own American family here, but kept his hand in his mother's with a loose grip. It didn't take long for her to point out Daniel, standing in front of an older looking car, not like the one they had taken to the Titanic. Of course, his American family would send a car as their love and hope they survived...that's how the rich worked.  _Most_ of them. Johannah hugged Daniel, entering the car with an eagerness to get away from the sea. Louis opened his hand to escort Eleanor into the car, to which she gasped and blushed like a young girl with a crush. She hopped into the car with more pep than he had ever seen, before readying himself to step in himself. He glanced everywhere, spotting a very cheerful Liam and Sophia, running in circles and acting far too happy for the situation. He scanned over the hundreds of faces that were once thousands, and felt his chest fall with the idea of how one, one simple safety problem on a ship could cause such a tragedy. Finally, he gazed out into the sea, sending out a silent 'I love you', with the hope Harry was somewhere around to hear it. He felt his bottom lip quiver, his throat closing in on him, before he turned away and slammed the door of the car with a sorrowful huff. 

Daniel took some time, checking on other First Class to see if they needed assistance...giving time for Louis to twirl the engagement ring that sat in his pocket. His eyes drifted to Eleanor, who was getting her hair braided by his mother, giggling and acting harshly different than she had been known to. She was different, in the best kind of way, almost the most charming thing Louis had ever seen. He thought, maybe, as he twirled the ring in a certain way to graze of the diamond, that he could fall in love with this Eleanor...really, really fall in love. It would take some time, of course...to forget and move on, to be able to take the ring in his pocket and get down on one knee...but, it wasn't impossible. The girl he saw now was one he wanted to marry, one he would be willing to propose to, with time. 

The car started with a few jumps, shocking Louis' out of his trance and knocking the ring to the depths of his pocket. They had removed themselves from the scene fast, but the sooner they disappeared, the better. The sooner "Titanic" would just be a word. 

The car drifted away, Louis looking out the window with whimsical gaze as he avoided any conversation the girls were having. While his life was "fixing" itself, that didn't mean he was fixed. He was broken. He couldn't think of green eyes the same ever again...he never wanted to see such pure, white skin, he absolutely hated curly brown hair on everyone else, it disgusted him. He would never be able to look at the Third Class without feeling like he was about to throw up...no one would ever be as charming, as lovely, as absolutely perfect for him, and in every way as

Harry Styles-

Right there. Glancing back and forth, head turning so fast his curls were bouncing against his cheeks and making him look like a beautiful work of art. He was on the gangway, scanning over the crowd with tears streaming down his cheeks, a smile fading from his features when he couldn't find whatever he was looking for. Louis thought he might be dreaming, a hallucination, something was wrong with him. But, the warm tears slicking down his face told him, no, this was real, and Harry was there, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, looking like a dream. Looking so perfect, "Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop" Louis muttered, the car pulling a greater distance away, "Stop the car," he said, a normal speaking voice lacking demand, to which the other in the car questioned, "Stop the car!" Louis screamed, already opening the door and tripping into the street with a hard smack. He stood quickly, running toward the Carpathia with a speed he never thought he had the energy to reach. The car had stopped, the girls watching as Louis continued to run, shouting out 'Harry' with a cracking voice. He darted through the crowds of people, not even bothering to apologize if someone was knocked over. Harry was still on the gangway, tears slicking down his pale cheeks, still looking just as perfect as when Louis had left him. 

Harry let out a high pitch squeal when Louis smacked into him, knocking the both of them to the floor with a hard slap of metal, Louis cradling Harry's body tightly. It took Harry a moment to gather is bearing, to remember the feel of Louis around him before he finally whimpered out a happy noise, clinging to the older boy as tightly as possible, not even caring who was watching. Louis muttered his name over and over again, liking the way it flowed off his tongue and the way Harry mumbled his name back with the same care. He pulled away, still having Harry underneath him and smiling fondly down at him, "Why do I always seem to meet you when you're stumbling over yourself?" he asked, voice soft as Harry moved his hands to wipe the tears from his lover's cheeks, before getting greedy and pulling their lips together in a tender and unmoving kiss, soft and sweet and lingering as long as they could both muster before pulling away. To the both of them, it felt like an explosion in their minds, sparks rushing through their bodies. It sent a fire in their blood, starting a warmth from their hearts and spreading to the tears that flowed down their faces and mixed together. Both were wrecked when they pulled away, breathless, "You have explaining to do..."

"I thought you were dead, Louis! I was in the infirmary hardly able to speak or move or do anything and you never came to see me...I figured you would, so I just thought-...when they started ushering people off the boat, I found Liam and he said you were fine and dandy..but I couldn't find you. I thought, even if you weren't dead, you ran off without me or something...went back with your family," Harry explained, shaking his head as he rubbed his palms into his eyes to keep from crying anymore.

"I....I saw you-...When I asked for your name, they said they didn't have a Harry Styles...," Louis muttered his pathetic explanation, already connecting the dots that Harry wasn't able to even speak, let alone tell anyone his name. 

"Are you two coming along?" someone shouted behind the two boys, causing both to turn and see Liam and Sophia, hand in hand. Liam raised his hand and pulled it back in a motion to tell them to come on. Louis glanced over to the stopped car he had sprinted out of, Eleanor standing in the street outside and wearing quite the smile as she gave him a small wave. He smiled back, watching as she tilted her head and repeated Liam's motion for him to come back to the car. Harry was already standing when Louis came back to reality, his hand held out to lift Louis off the ground with the same strength he had the first time, before both boys ran down the gangway to the waiting friends. While the other three joined in conversatoion, Louis glanced around at the size of their group and how, one by one, someone was plucked away. Niall, Perrie, Kendall, and Zayn. It set his heart into a string of melancholy as he glanced around at the other three misfits standing around him, and the three dysfunctional three that waited for him back in the car, glancing around with each ticking second he didn't return. He mainly thought of Harry, the same one who was swinging their entwined hands back and forth like a child, something he didn't ever want to vanish. So, with a breathy laugh in disbelief he was doing this, he yanked Harry toward his family's car, Harry grabbing Liam, who pulled along Sophia.

"Mum, these are my friends: Liam and Sophia, and I believe you've met Harry," Louis panted out when he stood in front of the open doorway, Johannah looking shocked while Eleanor looked a little more delighted, "I made you a promise, yeah, but I've made them one, too. So, with your blessing, could they join us in...in wherever we plan to go?" Louis asked, biting his lip and sending his mother the most pitiful eyes she had ever seen, the type that always pulled a mother's heart strings and forced her to give into her baby's desires. So, with only a few beats of thought, she agreed, scooting over to Liam, Sophia, and Harry could shove in the back next to Eleanor, while Louis hopped in the front with Daniel, who ruffled his knotted hair with affection. Louis rolled the window that separated the back from the front down, so he could listen to whatever conversation was being held, pleased when he heard Harry and his mother conversing civilly.

"So, Harry, do you have half a clue of what you're going to do now?" Johannah asked, stopping Louis in the middle of his conversation with Liam, curiosity overtaking him as he awaited the answer.

"Well, yes, ma'am, I do-Sort of, well, not at all really...I mean, I got everything I need right here with me. I got air in my lungs, a few scars that'll need time to heal. I mean, I love waking up in the morning and not knowing what's going to happen or, who I'm going to meet, where I'm going to wind up," Harry bit his bottom lip, green eyes flickering up to a blushing Louis, "Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge, then I got me on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you people. And now-heh-I'm here. I lost everything I had to my name, and my only family is probably worried sick back home. But, I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're going to get dealt next. You learn- I'll learn-to take life as it comes at you...to make each day count. Somewhere along the way I'll figure out just what I want to do," Harry smiled, earning an affectionate smile from both Eleanor and Johannah.

"If you don't know what you're doing, could you at least tell me where we're going?" Louis asked, Harry leaning forward and connecting their hands, despite Louis' obvious embarrassment that his mother was watching. Harry laughed, sending shivers down Louis' spine and a silent thank you to whoever kept him alive despite all the odds that were high against them. Harry kissed Louis' cheek, making them burn as he had never felt more embarrassed to be receiving affection from anyone. He turned around to face forward as Daniel was, keeping his hand back to hold Harry's. The younger boy responded by leaning forward, head resting on Louis's shoulder as he kissed his cheek again and whispered,

"To the stars,"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around with me through this guys, and sorry if I made any of you cry  
> I have no idea what to write next, so if you have any ideas I might take you up on that offer!
> 
> Thanks for reading, lovelies, see ya next time- M.


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